Quinntana Week 2014 à la LazyWriterGirl
by LazyWriterGirl
Summary: As you can probably tell by my super-original/mildly-narcissistic-and-self-promoting title there, here you can find what will eventually be all 7 submissions for QW14. Day 7; Pre-Quinntana: Because what is Quinn but a good friend, when it comes down to it?
1. On the Bus to Cheer Camp

Day 1 - Quinntana Begins

She sits at the front of the bus, only just wiping the scowl off of her face as her parents' reminders to "make friends, sweetheart!" sink in. Santana doesn't need friends, she thinks as the bus trundles along to the second stop, a house a little outside of her neighbourhood. She sees a blonde girl with pale skin and a snooty expression step onto the bus. Santana actively ignores the newcomer, silently offering up a word of thanks as the blonde's cheap, fruity perfume wafts past her nose. The girl practically squats over the bus seat, as if she can't believe that she has to put up with such a _common_ means of transportation, and loudly smacks her gum. It's so loud that the sound of Santana's sighs is drowned out.

The next houses all offer up girls that seem like clones of the first, though two of the new girls are clearly brunettes; mustn't have had time to cover up their mousy roots, Santana thinks. She knows that she should be making an effort to socialize, but really it isn't as if her parents can tell when she's lying; she could say she made friends with everybody and their mothers and it wouldn't matter. The seat beside her stays blissfully empty, but soon the emptiness wears on her a little bit. She turns her head to the window. All of the other girls seem to be getting along swimmingly, and she can't help but feel like they're talking about why a Hispanic girl is headed to their "exclusive" cheer camp. My dad is the director of Lima General Hospital, bitches, Santana thinks, but she has the good sense not to say anything. No need to stoop down to such a petty level.

There's no way in hell that she could ever enjoy doing something as ridiculous as cheer camp. I mean, sure, Santana thinks as she scans the bus filled with cheerleader-hopefuls with individual back-stories and the same ugly hair, some of these girls are pretty cu—wait. Stop it Lopez. Anyway sure some of these girls aren't desperately unattractive, but there's nobody that even comes close to her. It actually unsettles the fourteen year old quite a bit. Like, it's completely a given that she'll be the hottest bitch her age at any particular time or place but this is weird. Maybe, she thinks as she chances a glance back to the rest of the girls filling up the back of the bus like the micro-clique they want to be, the reason why she can't understand it is because cute though some of these girls may be, they're not exactly _hot_. Aren't cheerleaders supposed to be hot? God, she thinks, though she's not really praying (she doesn't do so normally), God please, please let there be someone at cheer camp who's at least almost as attractive as me. It isn't even that ridiculous of a wish, she thinks; how can she be expected to be friends with people who aren't at her level?

Regardless, the bus ride to the cheer camp is a dull one, especially since her house was first on the route and there are still about ten empty seats, including the one next to her. The next couple of girls to get on the bus are the same as the rest of them, all loud gum-smacking and ugly hair and big, exaggerated lips with eye makeup that makes them look at least four years older, and not in a good way. They also do what most of the other girls have done and get on the bus haughtily, immediately swooping past Santana like they're better than her because they're white and she's so _ethnic_, she hears one of them whisper. She scoffs because bitch please, her house is at least four times bigger and if the last name on one of those girls' nametags is correct, Santana's father is her father's boss. Like, calm down racist, she wants to say, but why should she say anything when, in a short time, her gymnastic ability will have all of them clamouring to be her best friend? Not that she'll care about any of that. She's not going to cheer camp to make friends.

Daydreams of what Santana, Queen of Lima Cheerleading-Champs Camp will be like as a ruler are a small comfort to the Latina as the incessant buzz of the girls at the back of the bus grows louder and louder. They're all just hemming and hawing and smacking their gum and trying to make themselves sound as "cool" as the others and it's sickening, really. Then, the prettiest girl she's ever seen gets onto the bus at the third house and suddenly, though the back-of-the-bus-socialites are finally silent, Santana's brain now refuses to shut up. The newcomer is white (duh) and blonde (double-duh), but that's pretty much where she stops being the exact same as everybody else on this damn bus (save for Santana of course). As she slowly walks down the now-moving-again bus, the stranger catches Santana's eye. She smiles softly and nods in acknowledgment, though she doesn't take the seat next to Santana, instead sitting at the back with the airheads that Santana hates already despite never having spoken to them. She feels her shoulders sag just a little, but at least the other girl had been nice enough to let her know she'd been noticed.

"You're like, so pretty," one of the gum-smackers compliments the new girl. Santana scoffs as she watches the reflection of the girls in the window. They're all fawning over the newbie as she sits there with her perfect smile and her perfect little sundress and her perfect hair and her perfect perfection. They've practically handed her a crown reading "Queen of Cheer Camp" but oddly enough Santana isn't jealous, not of perfect-girl, anyway. She kind of wants to be able to sit that close to her though… stop it, Lopez.

"Thank you," the new girl says politely, and Santana nearly shudders. Even the girl's fucking voice is perfect; it's all raspy and low, but with this mature kind of weight to it that Santana can't seem to figure out. It's beautiful.

"Hey, so your name's Quinn? That's like, such a cute name," one of the gum-smackers says. Santana takes another quick glance back at the blonde girl as a few more girls climb up the bus steps, taking up the last few seats at the back (more like the middle).

"Thanks…Kelly," Quinn says, taking a glance at the gum-smacker's name tag. Santana suppresses the urge to sigh because of _course_ there'd be a Kelly. There are probably also a Barbie, Chelsea, and Skipper on this bus, she thinks. Santana actively ignores the girls at the back of the bus and tries to settle into her seat. Apparently the camp they're headed to is located on the other fucking side of the county, so the Latina digs her earphones out of her bag and plugs them into her iPod. She shuffles through random songs for a bit before settling on an Amy Winehouse track she hasn't listened to in forever. God, she loves Amy Winehouse.

_He took no time to regret_

_Kept his dick wet_

_With his same old safe bet_

_Me and my head high_

_And my tears dry_

_Get on without my guy_

"You're all being ridiculous, I'm sure she's perfectly nice!" Quinn's angry voice pierces through the smoky tones of Amy's voice, distracting Santana from the next line of the song. She turns back towards the gum-smackers and Quinn, surprised to find the beautiful blonde looking straight at her. "Hi!" the blonde smiles at her enthusiastically. "What's your name? I'm Quinn Fabray."

"Hello," Santana says, a little warily if she's being honest. It's a rare girl who's confident enough to treat Santana with such familiarity right off the bat. "My name is Santana, Santana Lopez."

"Well it's nice to meet you Santana Lopez. I see that the seat beside you is empty; would it be okay if I joined you? Conversation's getting to be insufferably bland back here," Quinn says. The gum-smackers all titter amusedly, but not in such a way that Santana worries that this could be a prank. The pretty girl with the amazing eyes (are they green or brown? Hazel?) seems genuine. And it's also a plus in her favour that she not-so-subtly just dissed all of those airheads without them noticing it. Must be that damn voice. She could probably convince people to do terrible things with a voice that wonderful. Santana wants to slap herself; she's turning into as big of a Quinn Fabray stan as the rest of them, something that she does _not_ want to happen. She can tell that Quinn is uncomfortable with being the subject of such idolatry.

"Go for it," Santana says. She shuffles around a bit, pressing herself up against the window to give the blonde a lot of room. Again Santana turns, this time to watch as Quinn stands at the next stoplight and practically wrestles her duffel bag away from one of her new acolytes. The gum-smackers all train their eyes on Santana with an odd ferocity that she immediately dislikes. Not her fault that the blonde got sick of them; that's totally what happened, she thinks as she watches the blonde pack her duffel bag in tightly under the seat. Quinn's slim hands rummage through the bag for a while, and as the bus begins to move again she comes up with a large book.

"Hi again," Quinn says as she sits down, "Why are you all pressed up on the window? I won't bite you." Her teeth are all lovely little pearls, Santana notes without meaning to. A nervous laugh escapes her.

"Right… sorry, I just didn't want to invade your personal space or anything," she says as the blonde settles into the bus seat. The large book in her lap makes it difficult, but Santana doesn't know if she should ask Quinn if she needs help or not.

"Don't worry about it, Santana," Quinn says, and the Latina enjoys the sound of her name falling from the blonde's lips. "Feel free to sit as close as you want, but" and here she turns to the brunette with a coy smirk on her face, "I'll have you know that any drool on my shoulder will be cause for a practical joke or two as payback." Santana laughs again, a little more strongly this time.

"Likewise Fabray, likewise," she says. Quinn grins at her conspiratorially.

"I like you." The simple statement nearly smites Santana where she sits. "I wanted to sit with you from the start but those girls were giving me these looks, so I thought you might be… odd. Sorry," she says quickly as Santana's face tightens a little. "I should have never put any stock into anything they said or did, they're all morons." This makes the Latina feel much better.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she says. "What's important is you're now sitting with the coolest girl at cheer camp." Santana winks. "And the second cutest, too." She doesn't know why she's flirting, or even if she likes girls like that, but she can't help it.

"Second cutest? And who's the cutest?" Quinn asks as if she genuinely doesn't know. Her nose wrinkles up in this adorable little way that Santana can see herself growing extremely fond of in future…wait. What? She looks pointedly at the blonde before looking away, strangely pleased by the furious blush that spreads over Quinn's cheeks when she catches on. Minutes pass and the roads get bumpier, and Quinn seems not to know how to proceed. The blonde's head is hanging down, her gaze trained on the book in her lap; it's open to a page but Quinn clearly isn't reading. The Latina decides to throw the poor girl a bone; the blonde immediately begins to sputter whenever Santana looks in her direction.

"Whatcha reading there, Quinn?" The book in Quinn's lap is large, definitely thicker than most of the books Santana's read recently, not that that really means anything but still.

"Oh, this? Well right now I'm reading The Magician's Nephew, but in a couple more pages it will turn into the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," Quinn says, seemingly grateful for the change of topic.

"C.S. Lewis? The Chronicles of Narnia, in his preferred order?"

"Yeah! You've read them?"

"Loads of times," Santana says, spurred on by how eager Quinn seems to be. "I didn't think to bring my copy with me though."

"You can share mine," Quinn says, "As long as you'll share your music with me? Daddy wouldn't let me bring my iPod to cheer camp; he thinks I'll lose it." Santana smiles slowly; somehow she doubts that Quinn is the type to lose things.

"You've got yourself a deal, Fabray," Santana says. "But first, tell me something about yourself; I don't share with strangers, you know." She sees the ghost of laughter just waiting to alight on the blonde's face.

"Well… I'm fifteen years old and my birthday is January 23rd. This coming September I'll be going to William McKinley High School as a freshman. I like all colours except for orange, but it can be okay sometimes, and I like white a lot even though it's not really a colour but rather a shade. I read books and like dancing and singing, even if I'm not very good, and I want to be popular, since I never was before." Quinn looks a little sad when the last few words leave her lips. They hang in the air between the two teens awkwardly for a short amount of time and Santana looks away to give her seatmate a little privacy. She can't lie, she's shocked. How could Quinn not have ever been popular? But still… hey, Santana's going to William McKinley High School as well! She turns a smiling face to the blonde.

"I'm going to McKinley too! My birthday is in August, August 12th, so I'll be celebrating at cheer camp, which kind of sucks. I like any colour or shade that makes me look hot, except for puke green, though I think I could still rock it. I like to read and dance and sing too, and I'm pretty bomb at all three, I think…and I know I'm going to be popular. Just like how I know you will be too," she says sweetly. She doesn't see how Quinn could be anything but popular. The blonde, who has been listening with a smile on her face, suddenly adopts a more curious expression. It's soft, and so Santana knows that her new friend (they're friends, right?) isn't angry, but Quinn looks so serious and sad.

"You really think that I've got what it takes to be popular?"

"Yeah! You're smart, and you're cool, and you're probably a great cheerleader…and also, you're one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen," Santana admits that last part after a great deal of reluctance. She's really not supposed to be saying these things; this is so not Santana Lopez.

"T-thank you," Quinn stutters. Santana thinks that it may just be the cutest thing that she's ever heard. She wants to press a little more, find out how it could even be possible that Quinn was never popular, but the blonde looked so uncomfortable saying it that Santana thinks it may be a topic for another time. Maybe the bus ride back home.

"I'm just honest is all," she says instead, because she is, it's true. "It gets me into trouble most of the time but I'm not being myself if I'm not being a straight-up bitch." She chuckles a little at that; it's also true. Beside her Quinn giggles.

"I don't know Santana, you seem really nice to me!"

"Shh, don't go spreading that around. It's like my super-secret identity, this whole nice thing." She waggles her finger at her new friend jokingly, winning another giggle and a nod from the other girl. They ride in comfortable silence for a while, Santana pushing herself up every now and again. She doesn't know why she'd begged her mother to let her wear a thong, or why her mother had given in and allowed her to do so. The stupid thing keeps on getting…stuck, and it's uncomfortable as all hell, especially against the sticky plastic-whatever material of the bus seats. Quinn can't know what the problem is, but after about the tenth time watching Santana lift herself off the seat, stomach straining upwards against the seatbelt, the blonde's eyes take on a curious light. She bends down, impossibly flexible against the stupid seatbelt, and comes back up with a folded blanket.

"Here Santana, sit on this! I know we've only got about an hour left in the trip, but you don't look very comfortable, so please, take it." Santana reaches towards the blanket, a grateful smile on her face. The blonde suddenly pulls the blanket away, giggles chiming out as she notes the half-confused, half-unimpressed expression on her new friend's face. "Two conditions… first thing, read with me for the rest of the trip? Second thing…uh…share a bunk with me?" She's shy all of a sudden, and as a pinkish tinge creeps over the blonde's face she hands the blanket back towards Santana.

"You've got yourself a deal, Fabray." After situating herself on the blanket (and praying nothing weird happens) Santana beckons Quinn closer to her. Together the pair begins to pore over Lewis' tale of Mr. Tumnus, the Pevensie children, and the mysterious wardrobe ("It's basically just a glorified closet," Quinn says at one point, making Santana giggle). They're sitting so close together, one caramel hand holding the pages back as one pale hand flips guides them through the words, and every so often Santana catches herself paying Quinn more attention than the story. She thinks, maybe, just maybe, one day she'll make her own journey out of a closet. Turning towards the pack of gum-smackers as Quinn's head brushes against hers softly, Santana makes her best bitchy-proud face. She may not want to get to know any of the rest of them, but if Quinn is her friend, she knows she'll get through cheer camp without killing anybody. It's only the beginning for them, she can just feel it.

* * *

**Boom. Hopefully not a bad start to the week, though I do apologize for that last line there. It doesn't sit well with me, but enh. Hope you guys are enjoying the start of QW14, I've already seen some pretty good stuff out there! See you tomorrow for Comfort/Fluff day :)**

**Oh and before I forget, swing on down to my profile if you wanna see some interesting stuff (twitter handle, a fb page I'm helping promote, a poll, info on some of my other stories).**

**~ Kay ~**


	2. Quinn's Day

**So I realize that yesterday I forgot to add in a disclaimer... my bad!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Quinntana, or any of the places mentioned in the following story. They're just borrowed playthings, but I promise I'll put them back!**

* * *

Every year, on a certain day in spring, Santana makes a conscious effort to be with her girlfriend from the moment she wakes up until the moment she falls asleep. Usually, it's Quinn who makes suggestions as to where they'll be going and what they'll be doing during Santana's visits, and Santana doesn't mind that as long as her input is heard. On this certain day in spring, however, Santana does everything; it isn't that Quinn couldn't do it, but it does make their lives easier, at least in Santana's opinion. This year is no different, and come Tuesday afternoon Santana finds herself wrapped up in Quinn's arms, the pair of them snuggled closely on Quinn's twin bed. She's been awake for hours, but Quinn had trouble sleeping, so she understands why they're getting a late start to the day. "Today, you and I are going to…," she draws it out for a while, seemingly forgetting the sentence until her girlfriend gives her a playful nudge. She laughs softly and takes Quinn's hand in her own, marvelling at how well they fit together, as she usually does. "Today you're not going to go to class," she says, threading her fingers with Quinn's. The blonde gives a small sound of dissent.

"But Santana, my grades—

"Are more than sufficient to keep you on the dean's list, Q. One day won't change that. Now are you going to let me finish telling you about our day?" On any other occasion Quinn would definitely be unappreciative of the patronising tone of Santana's voice, but today is an exception and the brunette would be lying if she said that she didn't do some things a little differently than she normally would. She just smiles sheepishly and nods, cuddling closer into Santana, the warmth of her spread evenly against Santana's side. "That's my girl. So, today you're not going to classes, and we're going to have a day-out."

"Do you want me to show you around New Haven again, S?" Quinn sounds tired, but not unhappy, which is already better than how she normally can be on this day. Santana shakes her head and pulls away from Quinn slightly, turning so that the blonde can see the smile she's wearing; it doesn't take long for Quinn's lips to curve upwards as well.

"Much as I actually like New Haven, I have a better idea…okay, get dressed, but wear something kinda sporty!" Santana rises, clapping her hands together for emphasis; this is going to be perfect, and if she doesn't continue to use words like 'sporty' it will be even more perfect.

"And what about you, are you not going to change?" Quinn's quirked eyebrow is so adorable that Santana can barely resist the urge to forget about her plans and just take her girlfriend right this second, but she can't. It's not gonna be that kind of day, Santana decides as she stoops to grab her own change of clothes from her bag.

"Oh I am, but in the bathroom. I don't think I'd be able to control myself if we changed in the same room, _amor mio_." Santana finishes the sentence with a wink, winning a laugh from the sad-eyed blonde girl still sitting amongst the rumpled sheets. As the Latina steps out of the room she notices how Quinn's shoulders sag a little and she feels badly, she does, but she just _knows_ that she can make Quinn happy today.

"Seriously, S, where are we going?" Quinn asks when they drive out of New Haven. Santana just chances a glance at the blonde, kisses her quickly on the cheek, and tells her to just relax. She almost misses her exit about forty-five minutes later, and then it takes her a little while to find the place, but when she does and she brings the car to a stop she can feel Quinn's excitement. When she turns, the blonde has the most precious smile on her face, like she can't believe it that Santana would take her here; it strikes the brunette that it had probably never occurred to Quinn that her girlfriend had been listening when she'd mentioned what she would like to do during her time in Connecticut. _Niantic Bay Bicycles_ the shop says, and as the name suggests there are bikes everywhere.

"So, what are we waiting for, _amor mio_, let's go rent some bikes and take a ride around the bay?" Quinn's eager eyes light up at the idea of a bike ride with Santana, and the brunette grins. She knew that Quinn would like it. If it had been any other visit it probably would have been Quinn who'd taken them here; Santana's secretly glad that she was able to beat the blonde to it.

"Hello ladies, looking to rent a bicycle?" A tall man stands behind a clean counter, smiling at them in a non-threatening manner that Santana appreciates; some years, on this day, she's had to deal with quite a number of creeps messing with her girl.

"Yeah, two please," Santana says kindly, handing the man the money he asks for without another word. He gestures for the pair of them to pick out whichever bike they like, mentioning how regular rental fees cover up to two hours. With another smile, as if he can tell that Quinn in particular could use some friendliness today, he hands them a couple of route maps and explains which ones would be best for a refreshing ride through some beautiful scenery. Santana studies the map for a moment, waiting until they're outside and alone with their bikes before she asks Quinn, "So which route would you like to take?"

"Uh… I think maybe the forest path, if that's okay? It's a little shorter, and you know with my back and all—

"Hey, yeah, of course." Santana leans in a little, pleased when Quinn holds her closely. "We can do whatever you want, Q. So let's go!" They walk the bikes to the start of the path, which is thankfully not too far away, and then, with a quick glance to her phone for the time, Santana motions for them to start riding. It's been a while since she's used her muscles like this, she thinks, remembering the days of Sue Sylvester and her suicidal workout routines. She's about to make a comment about it to Quinn when she catches the way the blonde looks in the flecks of sunlight pouring in past the trees. Santana doesn't know how poetic she can be about shit like this; it's always been a bit much on the effort side of things to think in poetry. Still, she knows for sure that whatever kind of animal or flower or moment of artistic clarity Quinn's eyes are reminiscent of, they're the most beautiful things she's ever seen.

"That was so much fun, Santana, thank you," Quinn says once they've returned the bikes and gotten back into the car.

"Oh baby, the day has barely begun," Santana winks, rewarded once more with the ringing of Quinn's laughter in her ears.

"Well what's next?" Again, Santana doesn't respond right away, just shooting Quinn a cheeky grin underneath falsely innocent lashes. She doesn't miss the way the blonde's eyes roll good-naturedly and even though both of her hands are on the wheel of Quinn's Nissan, in her head she's giving herself the world's most badass fist-bump. You, Lopez, are a fucking fantastic girlfriend. And it's not even noon.

"Are you hungry?" She's kind of hoping the answer will be "No" or even "A little".

"A little…," Quinn says. Santana gives herself another badass mental fist-bump.

"Okay. How about some ice cream?" As she says it, she pulls the car to a stop in front of a cute little ice cream parlour. Quinn laughs.

"Ice cream?"

Santana smiles. "Yeah, whatever you want…but take it in a cone, 'kay?" They end up getting the same thing, a simple butterscotch ripple, and Quinn's confused face only grows even more so when Santana pulls her outside. "You're wearing comfy shoes, right babe?" Quinn looks down at her feet and shrugs, eyebrow quirked; she doesn't even need to say it, but Santana's sure she wants to know why the hell they're standing outside with ice cream in hand. "I was thinking we could go for a walk," she says, moving to stand beside Quinn so that, for the first time, the blonde notices the lovely long, nearly empty boardwalk that sprawls out alongside Niantic Bay.

"Oh... Santana, you're wonderful!" Quinn's lips are cold and sweet, and Santana savours the kiss for a moment before linking her arm with Quinn's. "But still…the boardwalk and ice cream, in April?"

"It's warm enough, isn't it? And if not, why do you think I'm here?" She winks and Quinn laughs again so Santana knows that she's doing a good job of being awesome. "Let's go! I wants to see what's so great about this boardwalk." Of course, Quinn being Quinn she launches into a softly spoken semi-sermon on the cultural and historical relevance of the Niantic Bay boardwalk, and the whole village in general. It's endearing, the way her blonde hair flies around in the breeze and her tongue pokes out at her ice cream every so often in between sentences and Santana doesn't want to spoil the moment by taking a picture, nice though it would be to have one. They walk for a while, enjoying their ice cream (well, she kind of enjoyed hers and half of Quinn's, but whatever) and their shared presence, until Quinn stops at a spot near a bench and just stands, looking out toward the bay.

Santana can tell that the blonde is probably wishing she had a notebook and a pen, anything to write down whatever thoughts are swirling about in her head; she writes so beautifully, real poetry, and Santana once again can feel that there's something more to Quinn in this instant. It's in the gentle curve of her lips as she watches the sun reflecting off the water, Santana thinks, and she knows that if she were Quinn she'd have already captured the beauty of it in a verse. "You know, Yale is nice and the scenery is great, but I've never seen anything there that made me feel more than I feel standing here." Santana isn't looking at Quinn, but she nods her agreement anyway; the bay really does create this beautiful view. It makes you want to think, she supposes as she leans up against the railing.

"Well the bay is gorgeous, Q," Santana says. She can practically feel Quinn's smile at the words.

"It is… but it wasn't the bay I was talking about, S." Oh. _Oh._ Santana can feel the heat tingling against her cheeks as she turns to Quinn, the breeze leaving whispers against the warmed skin. She's glad that they ate all of their ice cream a little earlier, or it'd be melted by the power of her blush. She knows it won't really show up, but all Quinn has to do is touch her cheek to know how much of an affect her words have on the Latina.

"Charmer," she jokes, furiously trying to fight the blush. Quinn just laughs and takes her hand, continuing their walk, every so often casting a sly glance at Santana; she knows. There's a lot to look at though, and they look like a pair of owls, heads turning every which way trying to take in everything at once. Quinn is mostly silent now, though she does take the opportunity to point out things that interest her. When they reach a certain point close to the main street she asks Santana if she wanted to do any shopping today. Santana shakes her head because she can tell that Quinn just wants to keep on exploring the boardwalk, and today is all about Quinn.

They end up going home a few hours later, right after dinner; Quinn has pushed her body a little too much and she's tired, Santana can tell. The drive back to New Haven is mostly quiet and peaceful, with one of them pressing light kisses against some part of the other's skin every so often. Santana feels sorry when she has to wake Quinn from her nap, but she doesn't know which exact keys are needed to get back to Quinn's room.

"Did you have fun today?" She asks Quinn when they've changed and are just sitting together on Quinn's bed, watching Sailor Moon or something along those lines; there's anime girls transforming and fighting shit, but Santana's more interested in her girlfriend than the laptop screen.

"I did…Santana, thank you," Quinn says as she takes the Latina's cheek in her hand. It's a light kiss, and Santana doesn't attempt to make it anything more than what it is; Quinn is _tired_ she thinks, and besides, thank-you kisses are sweet.

"You gonna call?" Santana asks. Quinn shakes her head. "Why not?"

"I actually called earlier, when I couldn't sleep. Shelby said she was glad that I called. She was hoping I could have been there, but I told her I wasn't ready." Santana rubs her girlfriend's arms slowly; it _is_ Beth's birthday, of course Shelby would want her to be present. Every year on this day someone calls, and every year she isn't ready, and every year Santana pulls out all the stops to make sure that the girl she loves doesn't go more than a few seconds without enjoying herself; Quinn deserves to be happy every day. She also deserves, however, to be a part of her kid's life, in whatever capacity she and Shelby can agree on.

"You will be though, right? You should try it next year." Quinn turns the cartoon she's half-watching off and looks Santana straight in the eyes.

"How can I? Yes I want to be a part of Beth's life, but S, I feel like I can't. This is our special day; every year since I had her you've always done something so incredibly, unbelievably nice for me and I can't help but feel like I'd be trading you for her…," Quinn sighs. "That's kind of messed up, isn't it? Shouldn't my child, even if she's not connected to me by anything more than biology, come before everything? Even the person I love?"

"I don't think that's messed up, Q, in fact I'm flattered." Santana threads their fingers together, as she'd done that morning. "But really, I think it would be good for you." Quinn nods and then it seems to click. Santana sees it and can already feel her own shaky laughter building in her throat.

"Have you been doing this every year because you don't want me to be sad about Beth?" Santana grins shyly. She knew that Quinn would figure it out eventually, but every year she hasn't has been one more year where she doesn't need to explain why she's done it; how can she possibly tell Quinn, as in HBIC Quinn Fabray, that she's so desperately, totally in love with her that even the thought of her being upset is akin to a whole new level of heartbreak for Santana.

"Well…yeah…," for some reason Quinn doesn't seem to look impressed. "I thought, you know, you were sad about it, so that's why I—it's not that I wouldn't have done those things anyway but—are you mad? Don't be mad Q, I—

"Oh, Santana, I'm not angry. I knew there was a reason I loved you so much." Quinn throws her arms around the smaller girl, squeezing softly. For her part, Santana smiles. "But you know, you do owe me half an ice cream and a shopping day…and that's only for this year! There was also the vase you accidentally broke last year and the—

"Hey, what! Q, seriously? I did all these awesome things and then—

"San, I was kidding!" They laugh together and it's wonderful, Santana thinks. "But in all seriousness, thank you Santana; I'm so glad that somebody could love me as much as you do, to give a day towards making me happy."

* * *

Every year, on a certain day in autumn, Quinn makes a conscious effort to be with her girlfriend from the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep. The rejection of Santana by her _abuela_ still hurts the Latina deeply. She's glad that somebody could love her as much as Quinn does, to give a day towards making her happy.

* * *

**And Day 2! Complete! **

**T****hanks to ALL of you for reading, favouriting/following this story and me, and for letting me know your thoughts. Whether you be a Lazer, a Quinntana fan, or whatever else, I'm beyond glad that you enjoyed yesterday and hope that you do enjoy today's offering. See you all tomorrow!**

**~ Kay ~**


	3. Days Before A Wedding

**Thank you all so much for joining me once again for Quinntana Week 2014! Here is my DAY 3 offering, wherein Santana meets the Family (that should give you a clue). And as always, to those of you who've decided to review, favourite and/or follow both this story and me, know that I love you guys. But if you're just in it for reading, I love you as well! Lots of love going around, it's fantastic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Quinntana, Judy, or Frannie, nor do I own Uncle Gio, Aunt Maggie, Belle, or Warren. They were inspired by (but not wholly the same as) the Blake family from Luc Besson's film of the same name! Oh and Debbie is a throwback to Dianna's role on Heroes, also of the same name.**

* * *

"Come on Santana, it will only be a few days, and at most only a couple hours each day we're there. My family isn't that bad!" Quinn pinches the bridge of her nose gently; she can feel the onset of a slight migraine coming on. They've been out of high school and living together for two years and have been dating for five, but she and Santana can still get into ever-escalating arguments about stupid things that they shouldn't be arguing about; today's topic, Frannie's wedding.

"No way, babe, I'm not going. Send Judy and Frannie my love though," Santana says. Quinn sighs.

"Since when do you like Frannie?" Quinn watches her girlfriend shrug her shoulders in a continuous movement as she sets down two cans of Coke. It almost looks like she's imitating a rollercoaster, not that Quinn mentions it; the last thing she wants right now is to irritate Santana.

"Since she defended me against Russell, that time at the stupid country club. The fucker called me a bad influence on you, and I mean come on! We've been together since you had Beth, not to mention the fact that we've been friends since before we could walk, and Russell has never said anything against me before. Not until he found out that you were getting yourself all lezzied up with me. Fuck him, Q, I'm not going to that wedding. Just tell Frannie and Judy that I'm really sorry, okay, please?" Santana drops to the couch, further than she would normally be. Quinn can see that there's something else bothering the Latina; it's rare that Santana mentions Russell by name.

"Hey," Quinn reaches for her girlfriend, not surprised when the other turns away from her hand. "Hey, come on, look at me," she says, slightly more forcefully than before. She ends up half-crawling over to where Santana is, effectively trapping the other girl between her and the armrest.

"What do you want, Q? I thought we were gonna watch I Am Number Four?" Santana seems distracted and now Quinn knows for sure that she's bothered.

"Fuck I Am Number Four," she says, startling the Latina beneath her; it's rare for her to swear. After all, Fabrays are raised to be proper young women and language like that belongs, to quote Russell, 'On a farm, or in pornography'. "Alex Pettyfer gives me a headache. I don't want to watch I Am Number Four, I want to talk." Santana folds her arms and looks up at Quinn, and the blonde would be awestruck by her own good luck – that face, she thinks, could start a thousand wars – if she wasn't so determined to get to the bottom of all of this. 'So talk' Santana's eyes practically demand, and so she does. "Why do you _really_ not want to go to Frannie's wedding, huh? Are you afraid Russell is going to try something? To take me away from you? Is that it?"

"No," Santana says, "I used to be afraid of that…but I'm not anymore." Quinn feels the Latina's arms coming up and wrapping around her shoulders and waist. "But…you're right, something is bothering me." Quinn waits for a while; she knows that eventually Santana will drop the dramatics and just tell her what it is that's bothering her. "I want the rest of your family to like me." The self-consciousness in the tanned girl's eyes as she says it is just so endearing that Quinn can't help but laugh. It starts out small, but soon it builds, until Quinn is outright rolling with laughter. Santana's expression mingles between hurt and angry for a minute and Quinn is about to apologize for her laughter before Santana unceremoniously tosses her to the abandoned side of the couch.

"Hey!"

"Well you shouldn't have laughed! God, Q, you _know_ I hate being insecure and all that shit, and then you laugh? Don't be a fucking bitch," Santana says.

"I'm not trying to be," Quinn says, barely even angry about how she's just been handled. She knows that it's difficult for Santana to tell people things like this, and she really shouldn't have laughed, even though it was the most damned precious thing she's ever seen. "Look," she climbs into Santana's laugh, prepared in case the other girl decides to throw her off again. She doesn't, which Quinn takes as a good sign. "I know that my family will love you…not as much as I do, obviously, but they will absolutely _adore_ you. At least, the family members who matter will. So come on, say you'll come with me?" She kisses Santana once, careful not to put too much pressure behind her lips. Just as the other girl begins to respond Quinn switches tack, moving her lips to her girlfriend's neck, to a secret little sweet spot underneath the Latina's jaw.

"Mmhm…okay, okay, yeah, I'll go," Santana says. "Quinn, Quinn, I'll go!" Quinn stops and smiles, eyes shining towards Santana; she knew she would get her to say she'd go.

"Great! Now let's watch something…Oh, I know! How about Moulin Rouge?!"

Santana scoffs, "Am I dating Quinn Fabray, or has Lady Hummel possessed you? No."

* * *

A few days later finds Quinn and her girl getting ready in their hotel room. It's so nice of Frannie, renting rooms for everybody, she thinks as she pats down her hair with a shaky hand. Of course considering the fact that Frannie's marrying a doctor from a wealthy family, it could just be her sister's way of subtly gloating. She basically bought out four or five floors of the local Hilton. Whichever is true, she's grateful that Frannie has opted to provide Santana and Quinn with some privacy. They're the only family members on the floor; everybody else is a friend from work or college.

"Hey Q, baby, are you ready yet?" Santana sounds huffy, she thinks as she applies a tad more lipstick to her bottom lip. There, perfect.

"Yeah, are you?" She knows that Santana's been ready for ages, and maybe taking her own sweet time wasn't a good idea but Quinn wants to look good. Frannie would never forgive her if she didn't; she _is_ the maid of honour after all, second only to the bride.

"Can we just skip it? Isn't the official rehearsal dinner not for like, four days?" Santana looks truly anxious, and it's so _frickin'_ adorable that Quinn knows she'll have to fight to keep a neutral expression. Instead she just swoops in all suave-like and plants a gentle kiss to Santana's lips. She then promptly chastises herself for thinking that she would 'swoop in all suave-like'; she really has been spending too much time with Santana, she thinks fondly.

"Can't do that baby! Because both Frannie and Norman come from such large families, we're splitting up the reception of all of these people. It's our family tonight; nobody from Norman's family except for his parents will be there, and you've already met them. And besides, I was just talking to my cousin earlier when you went out for a jog, and she's excited to meet you. You're really going to like her."

"Are you sure? You said I was 'really going to like' that vegan noodle casserole thing that Rachel brought to the apartment as thanks for talking her out of that shady student film. Hated it. You said I was 'really going to like' that all-male performance of Hairspray that the pretty ponies, Plastic Face, and Adam's Apple put on at the NYADA theatre. Hated it. You said I—

"Okay, okay, I get it. But I promise… you'll love Belle. She's exactly like you, but looks like me."

"Ooh, my two favourite people. You better not be lying to me, babe." Santana begins to walk to the door, stopping only to take Quinn's hand as they leave the room. On the way down to the hotel's restaurant they run into several of Frannie's friends, Quinn proudly introducing 'the world's most amazing girlfriend, Santana' to everybody who cares. She watches the Latina's face as they draw nearer and nearer to the restaurant. Nearer means family, and family means Santana is going to actually meet Quinn's family, and not just her asshole father, reformed-alcoholic-now-totally-badass-mother, and subtly-elitist-but-also-badass-big-sister. The blonde would be lying if she said she was entirely calm about this whole thing. Quinn offers up a silent prayer to Jesus; her cousin Belle and Belle's parents and brother are amongst her most favourite family members, but they're just a bit…eccentric. As soon as they set foot in the restaurant they can practically feel the interested gazes.

With an almost defiant air about her, Quinn begins to guide Santana towards one of the smaller clusters of blonde women, one hand caressing a tanned bicep as the other hand clasps with Santana's over their linked arms.

"First, I absolutely must introduce you to Auntie Rose and her daughter Debbie. Watch out for Debbie; much as I love her mother that girl is a bitch. Totally stereotypical cheerleader." At this Quinn hears the lightest of chuckles.

"Oh baby, weren't we the same?"

"No," She takes her hand off of Santana's for a second to issue a charming little finger wag at her girlfriend; may as well flirt in style, she thinks. "We were different because, even as bitchy cheerleaders we were flawless. Debbie lacks that ever-important quality."

"You're still flawless," Santana whispers, a few feet away from Auntie Rose and her bitchy daughter. Quinn's blush is a pretty pink as she introduces her girlfriend to her aunt and cousin, her sharp eyes obviously keeping the younger girl from saying anything out of line.

"I didn't know they let lesbians be cheerleaders," Debbie says snidely, and Quinn can feel Santana's grip on her hand tighten.

"Well they do, grades permitting. How have you been doing in school lately, Deb?" Quinn knows that the younger girl has had to see tutors to stay at a C+ average. For her part, Debbie looks appropriately embarrassed, and Auntie Rose is quick to apologize. Santana is gracious, even offering a few words of support to the youngest blonde before Quinn hauls her away quickly. They go through the rest of the family, with Quinn constantly promising that if Santana can get through the boring people, Belle's family will be a real treat. She sees Belle and her brother Warren watching as she circulates around the room; they smirk and wave at her, un-offended because they know that she's only taking this long to get to them so that she can spend the rest of the night talking with them, to the exclusion of everybody except for her mother and Frannie.

* * *

Finally, _finally_ they run out of cousins, aunts and uncles to speak to, and then Quinn unceremoniously drags her girlfriend towards her cousin's family. "Uncle Gio!" Quinn hurriedly runs to a man with a grizzly looking beard, pulling him in for a tight hug and a kiss on his hairy cheeks. "You look so handsome," she says.

"And you're just getting more and more beautiful every time I see you, Quinnie! Mag, don't you think Quinnie is stunning? Quinn, say hello to your aunt." The blonde woman beside Uncle Gio smiles as she turns and sees Quinn. The pair hug and exchange cheek-kisses, much to Santana's obvious confusion; Quinn has forgotten to mention that her cousin's family is very European sometimes, despite all of them having been born in the United States. Oh well, she thinks, it will come up eventually.

"Oh Quinn, darling, you look absolutely gorgeous!" Quinn smiles at the praise.

"Thank you aunt Maggie; you look stunning. I love what you did with your hair!" Quinn spends a few minutes speaking with her aunt and uncle before she turns to Santana. "Uncle Gio, Aunt Maggie, this is my girlfriend, Santana Lopez. Santana, this is my Uncle Gio and his wife, my Aunt Maggie."

"Hello sir, ma'am," Santana says shyly as she shakes hands with Uncle Gio and proceeds to accept Maggie's cheek-kisses; as a Latina, she's highly accustomed to this greeting.

"Oh dear, there's no need for such formality!" Quinn can see that Santana likes Maggie's openness and friendly nature. "Please, call me Aunt Maggie! So, you're the lucky lady who's set our Quinnie's heart in motion, are you?"

"Aunt Maggie!" Quinn is so embarrassed, but she isn't all that upset; these aren't her favourite family members for nothing, after all.

"Ah, now don't be embarrassed, Quinnie. This girl is absolutely beautiful, you're beautiful, the two of you are a very attractive couple," Uncle Gio says, and he's all smiles. "Did ol' Russ take it well?" The look on Quinn's face is a cross between are-you-kidding and hell-fucking-no and Santana just looks at Uncle Gio blankly. "I'll take that as a no. Hm…well there's the old bastard now; Maggie, I think you and I should go speak with ol' Russ. You should say hello to your cousins, Quinnie, they've been so bored without you." The older man offers the couple in front of him a wink. It's obvious that he dislikes Russell almost as much as they do.

"Of course Uncle Gio, and thank you. I just don't want to have to deal with Daddy right now." Quinn waves her relatives off with a grateful smile, pleased to find her gratitude echoed in Santana's own expression. "You like them!" Santana nods.

"They're definitely a lot nicer than some of your relatives have been. Now, where are those cousins of yours?"

"Quinn!" A dark-haired boy of about fourteen or so, perhaps a little younger, rushes up to greet them. His suit is a little rumpled, but clearly expensive, and Quinn can barely recognize her little cousin Warren. It feels like it's been so long since she last saw him. She wonders if he's still the same.

"Warren!" She wraps the boy up in a hug, mussing his hair a little. It's out of character for him to be so affectionate, but she supposes he must have just missed her. Then she feels the ice shooting down her back and she can't help but laugh; ever the prankster. "Awh, that's freezing! You got me there though, good job bud." He laughs and grins.

"That's why you're my favourite, Quinn, you never get angry with me for my pranks."

"Aw, well aren't you sweet. Warren, this is my girlfriend, Santana," she says, patting Santana's hand. Warren takes a moment to just stare at Santana, and Quinn would laugh if he didn't look so serious about it.

"Are you good to my cousin, Santana?" Quinn searches her girlfriend's face for a hint as to where she is with her mood; if she reacts badly, Quinn figures it's time to excuse them; she can always introduce Belle at some other time. Luckily, Santana takes the question in good-natured stride.

"I try to be, Warren, but sometimes I do lose my patience," she admits, winking at Quinn when her mouth falls open in feigned shock. The dark-haired boy in front of them laughs.

"That's why I prank her sometimes," he says, shooting Quinn his best smile so that she knows he's only playing around.

"I thought I told you not to prank Quinn! Warren I swear I'm going to—

"Is that you, Belle? My god, you are absolutely dazzling," Quinn says, cutting off the younger girl's anger before it has a chance to really manifest itself into a threat. Santana watches as the two blondes hug, unsure of if she should cut in and introduce herself, or wait for Quinn. She decides to wait, and when the two pull apart the Latina is obviously confused for a moment at how similar they look. "This is my girlfriend, Santana."

"Hello," she offers weakly. Quinn stands beside her in a firm show of support, "It's nice to meet you." Warren smiles and gives his approval once more before dashing off. Quinn suspects she'll need to talk to Uncle Gio about checking Warren's pockets after the dinner; she's sure he'll come up with quite a bit of money, and only God knows how he'll get it. She shakes her head and is surprised when, upon turning around, Belle and Santana are already deep in discussion about something or other.

"Oh my God, babe, you have to hear this!"

"Sure, sure. What's up, B?" Belle shifts so that she can look equally between Quinn and Santana, though she seems more interested in the behaviour of the latter; Quinn knows that right now, every single thing about her girlfriend is being tested and measured up to some standard of which only Belle is completely aware.

"So you know, Q, how we were uh…sent to live in France for a bit, because of Dad's... work? Well while there I met the _sleaziest_ guy; red-haired—

"Ginger have no souls," Santana chimes in, earning a laugh from Quinn's cousin. "Except for Miss Pilsbury," she corrects herself, to which Quinn nods. They liked Miss Pilsbury while they were at school, and still speak to her when they can.

"Right...Oh, Miss Pilsbury is that awesome guidance counselor you talked about all the time right Quinn? Anyway, so this fucking moron, he tried to convince me to 'get to know' him and a group of his friends at this little river-side park…and of course I was not having it."

"So what did you do?" Santana asks as Quinn internally winces. She knows where this is going already, and that Santana will, undoubtedly, love it.

"I went back to his friend's car, opened the trunk, grabbed a tennis racket, and beat the shit out of him with it!" The way that Belle's eyes light up as she talks, in great detail, about how she laid a smackdown on some poor, stupid French boy is terrifying, but Quinn can tell that Santana appreciates her cousin's untamed (and unsuspected) brutality. Oh well, she thinks. At least they're bonding! Belle is obviously being careful not to mention everything that happened in France; Quinn had heard the story from Uncle Gio and Aunt Maggie a while back, and she isn't too sure that Santana could cope with it all. As it is, Belle and Warren kind of just sound like sociopaths in the making, but looking at Santana's face Quinn can tell that she isn't bothered by that in the least.

* * *

"Your family's been pretty cool, Q. Aside from Debbie and a few of your old-guy uncles, I actually like them."

"And Belle's family?" Quinn asks as they dash into a nearly-full elevator.

"My favourites. I understand why you like them so much," Santana says, a little quietly so as not to disrupt their fellow passengers. Quinn breathes a sigh of relief; Belle and her family clearly enjoyed Santana as much as she did them. "You know, I'm surprised though…"

"Why?"

"Because like, not once did anybody mention how much I should be grateful and proud that I'm dating a Fabray." Oh…right. Quinn forgot to mention…

"Uh… about that. All those people that you just met, those weren't the Fabrays…" Quinn could swear that Santana's eye actually twitches.

"WHAT? Why would we spend a whole night mingling with people who aren't your family!"

"They are my family! My mother's side… the Fabrays are coming in tomorrow." They don't talk again until they're in the room and the door is locked.

"So that's why there are so many days before the wedding?"

"Yep." Quinn is treading lightly; Santana doesn't seem angry, but you never know.

"So if I didn't meet the Fabrays, then who did I meet?"

"Well… for various uh...reasons, most of my mum's family have changed their names, even if they were men." Santana waits, and finally Quinn realizes that there's no getting out of this. "You know the Manzoni crime family, in the mafia?" Santana nods, but her eyes are already starting to pop open, wider and wider the longer Quinn waits. "Uh… yeah, my mum's name was originally Judy Manzoni before she married Russell." Quinn waits, half expecting Santana to freak and run like a bat out of hell from the room. She doesn't.

"So…Judy's Italian? Wow, who would've guessed?"

* * *

**Cuz, you know, if _my_ girlfriend all of a sudden told me her mum was part of a mafia family, it would totally be no big... wait...my girlfriend's mum is Italian...oh fuck.**

**Alright, so I'm gonna run now, but uh, before I do, let me know how you felt about this! I liked it better than yesterday's, tbh. Also, don't forget to check out my profile for fun things like my twitter (where nobody seems to want to talk to me D:)**

**See you tomorrow, Lazers, Quinntana fans, and everybody in between!**

**~ Kay ~**


	4. Looking Back, What Should Have Been

**A little disappointed with the lack of response last time, but I understand. A lot of you may be shy/didn't like what I wrote enough to write anything. Or maybe you just don't know what to say? Special thanks to Jammy (your enthusiasm makes me smile!) and BreyanaXO (you know I love to hear from you, girl!) but of course, as always, thank you for simply clicking on this story and giving it a go. You're amazing, all of you.**

**Disclaimer: I'm borrowing other people's toys and playing with them, but I'll put them back I promise. Ryan & Co. own them, I just think they're pretty.**

* * *

The night of Mr. Schue's failed wedding, Quinn Fabray realized something that could only be described as pivotal to the direction in which she was taking her life; she may not have been a lesbian in the strictest sense but she definitely had it bad for none other than Santana Lopez. It was a terrifying thought and she knew that there was no future there for the pair of them. They were too much alike, and besides, there was barely any context for them to establish a relationship in; the New Directions and the New New Directions alike were essentially all convinced that they would sooner slit each other's throats than be forced to sit at the same table for longer than two hours or so.

They were wrong, of course, as Quinn and Santana had been best friends for even longer than they'd known Brittany for, but it wasn't as if anybody else but them could really understand the dynamic they had. It was something that Quinn couldn't stand to lose, their friendship, so the next morning she slipped out while Santana was still asleep. As much as she didn't want to, she forced herself to leave a note explaining why she'd gone; Santana deserved that much, at least.

Quinn didn't have anything to do with Santana for a while, even going out on a few dates, some with other young women. By the time it dawned on Quinn that she was, in fact, attracted to both men and women, she had little time to celebrate her newfound sense of self. All of a sudden she was getting a call from a distressed Kurt; Finn, her first love, the love of her dear friend Rachel's life, was gone. The news was devastating and as soon as Kurt hung up after one last choked sigh, Quinn broke down. She excused herself from her classes, citing a personal problem. All of her professors signed off on the idea that she wasn't going to be present for a few days. It was probably not the norm, but Quinn was a strong student, and her distress was plain to see. She packed frantically, not sure what to take, but guilty for even wasting so much energy on something so simple.

She stopped just as suddenly as she'd started. Santana. Since their last encounter, the blonde had ignored any and all attempts at communication from the brunette. The last text she could remember seeing said something along the lines of "Fuck you too Fabray" and while it hurt her that she'd probably alienated her best friend – and crushed any chance of a romance between them – she felt a wave of relief; perhaps now that she no longer spoke to Santana she could forget her ridiculous feelings. Quinn collapsed on her bed, unsure of what to do. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing Santana now, but she also couldn't disappoint her Glee family. She grappled with the pros and cons of both possible scenarios.

Eventually the battle in favour of going home to Lima lost, and Quinn began to cry as she returned her clothes to their original places. Over the next few days she lay in bed and ignored the whole world; her phone had died a while back but she couldn't summon up the energy to care. She was simply not ready to face Santana, and now, because she was a fucking coward, everybody thought that she couldn't care less about Finn. They were wrong, of course, but she hadn't the energy to explain why it would be even worse for her to be there mourning with them all.

* * *

Quinn saw Santana one more time during her undergraduate program; the reunion and disbandment of the Glee club. They performed Toxic and of course Biff was indifferent; Quinn was glad when Puck managed to scare the stuck-up fucker off, and slightly less glad when Puck said all of those things about their being soul mates. All that she could see as he painted his pretty words for her was Santana. Still, Santana was planning on doing a Lesbos Island-Hawaii vacation with Brittany, and Quinn had lost her chance. She agreed to date Puck, and they all went their separate ways. Things with Puck were nice, particularly because they were constantly separated by hundreds of miles; it wasn't that Quinn didn't want Puck to touch her, but that she was frightened that somebody else would take of her what she had given to Santana on that sad Valentine's Day. Still, Puck was remarkably good at keeping their long-distance relationship alive, and in the end, when he proposed, she said yes without looking back.

During their engagement, which was a slightly long one due to Puck's duties in the Air Force, Quinn discovered her talent for writing, and with a great amount of failures under her belt she finally found a publisher who was willing to take a chance on her manuscript. Even more luckily, the book picked up right away, and soon Quinn was enjoying quite a bit of celebrity in the world of YA fiction. Puck was so very proud of her, and soon she was getting calls from the other New Directions, all of whom had overflowing praise and love to share; all except for Santana. When Puck finally came back for their wedding, she had amassed a small fortune off her first book, and was working on a deal for a trilogy of sorts. With money no longer being a problem, Quinn felt as though her life was finally starting to fall into place. Santana was invited to the wedding, but she sent back a "Can't attend" and Quinn clung to those two words. It was her fault that they'd come to this, she thought, but there wasn't anything that she could do to change things now.

On the night of her wedding, Quinn Fabray realized something that could only be described as pivotal to the direction in which she was taking her life; she would never love Noah Puckerman as strongly as she loved Santana Lopez, but he was a good man and deserved her best efforts to love and keep him. Quinn slept with Puck for the first time since they had conceived Beth. She was actually surprised by how considerate of a lover he was, but it doesn't matter, really; all she could think of was the night of another wedding, in another hotel room, with another member of the Glee club. Santana weighed heavily on her mind even as she called out Puck's name.

* * *

Eventually he gets her pregnant, again, but this time she's twenty-eight and they've been married for four years, most of which have been tolerably happy. She often wonders how Santana is doing, if she's still with Brittany, if she's enjoying her life. If she's doing what she wants. If she's happy. Of all of the friends that Quinn has made throughout her life so far, the loss of her relationship with Santana still burns her. People talk, of course, and the New Directions, even the younger ones, are still tight-knit; in spite of this Santana and Quinn never cross paths. She has specifically asked that nobody mention Santana to her, and as this is unfair to the group as a whole, slowly Quinn stops attending New Directions parties; even passing glimpses of the feisty brunette, who still (unknowingly) holds her heart in a clenched iron fist, are painful.

Shortly after Quinn turns thirty, Puck is killed when his plane malfunctions and crashes just south of the training ground. She feels the anger hit her first; it must be quite a sight, she thinks, a pretty, young blonde mother and newly-minted widow holding her two-year old tightly as she screams at each and every person that she can think to blame. When she's all yelled out, Quinn grieves over the loss of her husband and close friend, but she can't say that it has the same effect on her that it does on Puck's family; Jake and by extension, Marley, are stricken, and poor Mama Puckerman can't even look at her granddaughter without crying; for all that their child looks exactly like Beth (exactly like Quinn), her father's smile, dopey and endearing, is a constant reminder that Noah Puckerman lives on through her. Claire is, obviously, quite unsure of what is all going on, but by the time she's finished crying because everybody else is Quinn has explained that Daddy is in heaven, being badass and eating Egg-o waffles to his heart's content. The child doesn't exactly understand, but then Quinn never expected her to. It will take time. Quinn devotes her entire life to little Claire, even more so than before. People are calling and sending her their love and sadness, but if Santana sends her anything it must be Fate taking the sent messages and burying them away somewhere, because Quinn can't find any trace of them.

* * *

One year after Puck's passing she and Claire ends up moving into a fashionable loft in Manhattan with Shelby; it makes sense, she thinks, as the older woman never married, and it would be nice for Beth, beautiful just like her mother at fifteen, and baby Claire to get to know each other; they're sisters through and through, after all, and Quinn offers up a silent thanks to Puck for helping her bring two such beautiful souls into the world. Thankfully, Beth takes well to her biological mother, and absolutely adores her sister, and Shelby is quite wonderful about the whole thing. Rachel and Kurt come to visit them a lot, and eventually so do Jake and Marley.

"You're always going to be family," Marley says during one of their visits, and Quinn can tell that the pretty brunette is sincere. The blonde is grateful, and she says as much to Marley, who's currently playing with Claire's chubby baby hands and cooing softly. "You don't need to thank me, Quinn…hey, are you coming to the reunion? It's next week, at Kitty and Artie's place, I think." Quinn politely declines. They have a reunion five times a year without fail, and that's not including birthdays and the like (sometimes it can't be helped and people miss those): the beginning of the year, one day in spring, once in the summer, right before the beginning of school, and Christmas time. Quinn comes up with excuses for each invitation, but it doesn't stop her friends from trying to get her to come out and see them. They're almost all in New York, unbelievably good luck by anyone's real world standards, and the ones who aren't are either in Toronto or L.A. Still, despite their adamancy that Quinn can't ignore them forever, she continues to do so for four more years, until finally Shelby has had enough of her hiding from her friends.

* * *

"You owe it to them to make an appearance, Quinn, even if you never do it again," Shelby says, chastising a now thirty-five year old Quinn like as if she were eighteen again, with the cigarettes in her pocket and the pink hair and the ironic tattoo of Ryan Seacrest on her lower back. Quinn knows that the older woman is right, but she still can't help the feeling that going to the reunion will be a bad idea. "It's only going to be for a few hours today, and then you never have to see them again if you really don't think you can handle it."

"Mom's right Mama Q," Beth says as she lugs her suitcases downstairs. "Besides, don't you think it's just a bit unfair to Claire-bear? I mean, she should be making memories with all of the other New Directions kids, but she only ever sees Maisie. Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine's daughter isn't exactly representative of the whole New Directions experience. You should go, if only for Claire's sake. She should get the chance to play with the all of Baby Directions."

"Yeah? Maybe I should take you with me too, Beth. By that logic you should be making memories with them as well," Quinn jokes. Beth laughs as Shelby nods in mock agreement; it's scary how much the younger blonde reminds Quinn of herself at nineteen; the year when she realized how deeply she'd begun to fall in love with her best frenemy, Santana Lopez.

"Sorry Mama Q, but college awaits! I promise I'll go to one with you eventually, right Mom?" Beth saunters over to Quinn, her walk ever-reminiscent of the HBIC strut. Throwing her arms around her biological mother she sighs dramatically, "I mean, I'll practically be a _goddess_ to all those little munchkins."

"You heard her, Quinn," Shelby says, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek as she begins to push her suitcases out the door. The older blonde woman comes to stand with Shelby as they watch their shared daughter shove her things into the trunk of the minivan they'd gotten her as a gift for getting into her dream school; Princeton is a great match for Beth's writer's personality, and Quinn knows she'll be great. "Love you baby girl!"

"Love you too mom!"

"I want that promise in writing, young lady!" Quinn jokes again as Beth closes the trunk.

"Love you too, Mama Q," Beth says with a sassy smile. "I'll call as soon as I'm settled in!" She blows a few last kisses to her moms and then Beth Corcoran is gone, driving off towards the start of a new school year.

Quinn backs away from the doorway slowly as Claire comes downstairs, eyes puffy. "Mommy is Bethie gone now?" Quinn stoops to collect the tiny seven year old in her arms. If the way she and Frannie grew is any indication, soon she won't be able to hold her daughter like this, so she relishes every opportunity to do so.

"Yes sweetie, isn't that why Bethie came to your room to talk to you? What did she tell you?" Quinn kisses her daughter's cheeks, thankful that Claire will never have to go through the pain of being called ugly by her peers.

"That I'm supposed to be good for you and Auntie Shelby, and that if I'm really good she's going to write her stories for me," Claire says. Shelby comes over and gives the now-calmer child a kiss on her forehead.

"That shouldn't be hard for you, you're such a good girl," Shelby says, and Quinn shoots the woman a grateful smile. Shelby has always been excellent with Claire. "And you know what else? Today your mommy is taking you somewhere where you're going to meet a lot of new friends! Isn't that exciting, princess?" Quinn's face falls slightly; damnit Shelby!

* * *

"OH MY GOD IS THAT QUINN FABRAY?!" Considering how Rachel, Kurt and Blaine have dinner at her and Shelby's every weekend it's ridiculous that they should be so loud about her presence. Their excitement sits well with Claire, obviously, though the volume must be a little startling as the small girl clutches onto her mother's leg. "Oh I'm sorry, did I scare you Claire-bear?" At this the tiny blonde stands up straight and puffs out her chest, just like how Puck used to do.

"Nuh-uh Auntie Rae, I'm so brave, ask Mommy!" Rachel laughs and scoops the girl up.

"Pretty soon I'm going to have to stop picking you up, huh Claire-bear?" Rachel snuggles with the tiny blonde for a while, and Quinn feels her tension slowly dissipating; she can get through this, _these are her dear friends_. "She looks so much like you Quinn." Rachel says it every time she sees Claire, but Quinn can tell that this time it's only being said because Rachel can't really think of anything to say right now.

"That means I'm gonna be soooo beautiful when I'm older, right Auntie Rae?"

"You're already the most beautiful girl here, Claire-bear…except for your Auntie Santana, but that's only because she'll be mad if I say otherwise," Rachel says, and the concern that washes over her face when Quinn actually flinches is intense.

"Quinn…"

"I don't want to talk about this right now, Rachel." Rachel drops the matter, though her pursed lips suggest that she is far from finished discussing this topic. Of course Rachel knows how the blonde feels – felt, she forcefully corrects herself – for Santana; she claimed to understand it all along, and Quinn isn't up challenging that. The blonde nods but says nothing else for a while. Then Artie is wheeled in by Kitty and their son Nathan and Quinn remembers how much she's missed them.

"Do my four eyes deceive me? I think not! It's Quinn Fabray looking just as goddamn gorgeous as she always did." Kitty looks at her husband reproachfully as five-year old Nathan's eyes bug out – clearly somebody should be a little more careful with his language around a five-year old. "Come over here and give us a hug!" Quinn laughs in spite of the return of her anxiety and she quickly rushes over to give Artie his hug. She turns to Kitty next and afterwards, to little Nathan.

"Nathan, this is your Aunt Quinn; can you show her how you say hello to people you love?" Kitty pats her little boy on the shoulder and he looks Quinn square in the face before wrapping his tiny fingers around her own and kissing her hand.

"How sweet! Oh, hold on a minute guys…Rachel? Rachel where are you and more importantly where is Claire?" Rachel appears still holding the seven-year old, and Claire hops down from her Auntie Rae's arms to hide behind her mother's legs again. "Claire Fabray-Puckerman, this is your Uncle Artie and your Aunt Kitty, say hello sweetheart. And don't forget to say hello to Nathan as well," Quinn ruffles the boy's hair lightly with her hand.

"Hello Uncle Artie and Aunt Kitty," she says obediently, walking over to the pair of them and kissing their cheeks as they bend down. "Hello Nathan," she says, giving the boy a kiss on the cheek as well. He blushes bright pink before saying hello back, shyly, and then the two are off, playing games with Kurt and Blaine's daughter Maisie. Quinn breathes a little easier as Jake and Marley enter next with their twins. Brittany and her son show up minutes later, and Brittany is so overjoyed to see Quinn that she picks the other woman up and doesn't set her down until she's "sure that it's Quinnie and not a clone". Within the next twenty minutes it looks like everybody who's going to make it today has arrived, and Quinn excuses herself from a story Tina is telling in order to use the washroom.

She spends a few extra minutes staring at herself when she's there and the door is locked; she looks good for being older, Judy's genetics the main cause for this, and when she comes out and goes to look at the children there's a new little girl playing with all the rest. The child has beautiful lightly tanned skin and dark curls. Santana Lopez stands just a short ways off, watching as the child (who is undoubtedly hers) bonds with the others, particularly Claire, and when her eyes meet Quinn's the blonde can swear she's just been thrown into the eye of a storm. She's still in love with Santana Lopez, after all these years and everything that's fucking happened in her life, and she instantly regrets coming here today.

Claire stands up at the sight of her mommy standing stock-still against the washroom door. She waits for a while, and Quinn can see that the child wants to say something to her, but it's a few moments later before she actually puts that in words. "Yes, baby girl?" Quinn prompts.

"Mommy I need to pee." Claire is wiggling around and Quinn immediately feels a little guilty for inadvertently causing her daughter discomfort. She moves aside, smoothing down unruly blonde tresses as the little girl darts into the washroom and closes the door decisively.

"I figured she was yours," that husky voice says. "You and Puck made some beautiful babies." Quinn steps away from the door, a little bit closer to the Latina. She can tell that literally everybody has at least one eye on them and it's unsettling to be this close to Santana after sixteen years (those short glimpses in their early 20s don't count).

"Thank you." She doesn't know what else to say, but since Santana opened with her children as a discussion, Quinn figures that it would only be polite to do the same. "Is that little one yours?"

"Yeah… well technically she's Dani's," Santana says, and the look in her eyes makes Quinn thinks that talking about Dani is not the way to go. "But obviously she's mine as well. Her name is Felicia and she's seven. How old is your daughter?"

"Claire is also seven," Quinn says, and she can feel the gazes of the other New Directions turn back to each other save for Marley and Kitty who watch their once-mentors with interest, and Rachel and Kurt who are huddled together, obviously analyzing everything about the situation. "How are you, Santana?" The way that the Latina recoils a little at the sound of her name is discouraging.

"I've been doing well. I'm slated to make partner at my firm in a year or two and Felicia's an angel most days. We live with Britt and Landon; shared rent on a nice place on the Upper West Side. How've things been on your end, Quinn?" The blonde hates the little tingle up her spine that she gets when Santana's voice says her name.

"Writing has been a bit frustrating lately, but everything is fine," Santana nods as if she shares the same problem, and there's an unspoken congratulations in her eyes. "Claire is a good girl; I live with Shelby and Beth, in a loft in Tribeca." It strikes her all of a sudden that she and Santana live in Manhattan; how have they never run into each other at all? Then she remembers, she's been purposefully avoiding the Latina; perhaps Santana has been doing the same all these years?

"I'm glad that things have worked out so nicely for both of us," Santana says, and Quinn can't help but feel like the other woman sounds a little bitter. They don't talk much for the rest of the party, though sometimes Quinn catches the other woman's dark eyes on her.

* * *

Over the next few months they see each other enough to _almost _make up for about half of the time in which they had both seemingly avoided each other like the plague. Then, the night before Valentine's Day, the inevitable happens. Quinn and Santana, both thirty-five and single mothers, end up falling into bed on a girls' night out with Mercedes, Rachel, Tina, and Brittany. It starts when Santana agrees to go to see where Quinn lives. No, it starts earlier than that.

It starts when Shelby calls and tells Quinn that she and Claire are going to be going to Kurt and Blaine's; Kurt needs help with a role and obviously Claire is too young to be left home alone. The girls all crow that Quinn "has the house all to herself" and it feels so silly and juvenile that Quinn retaliates with a sly wink and a cheeky grin, noting how it may very well be some attractive stranger's lucky night. For some reason Santana looks as if her whiskey is just a little _too_ sour, but Quinn can't really get a read on the tanned woman. They all laugh and joke about how, while they may be "too old" to play the field that way anymore, at least none of them looks it.

Next, Brittany and Tina go home early, and Santana forgets to remind Brittany that the tall blonde has both of their house keys in her purse. Eventually Rachel and Mercedes leave as well, citing the need to wake up early tomorrow for a recording; tomorrow is Sunday and Santana still wants to have fun, so Quinn stays with her. "You know, Q, we were always solid with each other, weren't we?"

Quinn laughs, a short bark really, "Yeah, when we weren't trying to rip off each other's ponytails…" She can tell that Santana is serious though, after a moment's silence, and she thinks about it. When it counted, yes, she and Santana had always been fairly solid. "We came through for each other when we really needed it," she says softly, eying down her beer like it's a long lost friend.

"Then why did you leave me alone the morning after the Wemma-Wedding-Fail?" It's so soft that Quinn barely catches it.

"What was that?" She looks down quickly to a text from Shelby. She and Claire won't be home until lunch tomorrow. Great, Quinn thinks, though she doesn't know why it's so great until what happens next.

"Ah fuck, leave it alone, it's nothing. Aw shit Britt took my keys… and she's probably asleep now." Santana grumbles a bit, downing another shot before searching for her cellphone. She's progressing into Weepy-Santana very quickly, and Quinn, in spite of herself, invites her once best friend, twice-lover back to the loft for the night. She doesn't think of Shelby. She doesn't think of Claire (well, of course she does, but not really). She doesn't think of anything really.

And that's how they find themselves here, Quinn pressed against the closed door of her bedroom, Santana lips suckling on her flesh almost desperately, the way they had the first time she and Santana had ever had sex. This time, however, Quinn isn't experimenting. This time their bodies aren't youth-perfect and without many obvious 'imperfections', but they've picked up experience and a few tricks along the way. When Quinn cries out Santana's name as she reaches her peak it feels right. When Santana practically sobs out Quinn's name, it feel like home.

* * *

"Quinn. Quinn, wake up. Fucking hell, wake up," Santana raspy voice is even sexier in the morning, but the first thing that Quinn can think when she opens her eyes is _ohmygodwhatthefuckhavewefuckingdone_. This could very well run everything, she knows, and when she sees Santana fully clothed her heart shoots straight through her chest and blasts through the wall. At the very least, she'd had the decency to leave Santana alone, to let her sleep. This, she thinks, this is cruel.

"Why the hell are you still here?" She deflects angrily, hoping that Santana will be able to forgive her for being such a hypocrite, even as she does her best to yell the other woman out of her life, possibly for good.

"Excuse me, but _I'm_ not the one who fucking left without a word. You left me note, Quinn, a fucking note. Do you know that when you touched me during our toxic performance, I had every hope that you would tell me that you wanted me again?" The conversation has escalated in only a few sentences, and Quinn can feel her pulse pick up. She still isn't ready to deal with this conversation.

"How dare you say that to me, Santana? You had Britt anyway, Britt and Dani, actually! And what in the world made you think that I wanted you in the first place?"

"Because I felt the same way too," Santana says. "And in spite of how fucking ridiculous you've been for more than a decade, I still do." It's softer than Quinn expects, and she can't think about any reason for Santana's tears but they're there. Surely she can't be drunk still, which can only mean that this is real. "And then you and Puck started dating and I left for Lesbos with Brittany, but nothing happened. I was still dating Dani, after all. Then you just dropped off the face of the fucking planet and as much as I tried to talk to you again, you ignored everything I ever tried to do. So I gave up. I figured that the others were hiding things from me, so I just left you alone; if you were happy than that was enough for me. Of course, that didn't stop me from keeping up-to-date with all of your contact information."

"You never called, or emailed, or texted. All of the big moments in my life; the book, the wedding, Claire, Puck _dying_. You didn't write me or anything, Santana, not even a 'Congratulations' or 'I'm so sorry, you bitch'!"

"I did. I just never sent any of it." At this point Santana is sitting on the bed, clinging tightly to the sheets with one hand as her other hand digs around for something in her bag. She pulls out an iPad and opens up her email, gently holding the delicate technology out to Quinn, who takes it. "Read. The folder that I've opened, those were all of the things I wanted to say to you over the years, but never did." Quinn doesn't believe her, but soon she's crying as the endless emails float in and out of her sight. Every single one starts with 'Dear Quinn' and ends with 'All my love, always, Santana'.

"I—I think I should brush my teeth and uh…get ready for the day," she says lamely when she's finished. "Will you still be here?" Santana shrugs

"My iPad is like, dying, so yeah. I'll just be charging it in the living room." It amazes Quinn how easily they slip back into their high school ways; all yelling and tears one minute, perfect nonchalance the next. "And besides…there are things you don't know still, Q. I've suffered and had success, same as you, and you weren't exactly looking to extend any olive branches either." When Santana says it, Quinn is immediately ashamed. It's true. She sighs and has to nod in agreement and apology, which Santana seems to understand. She just doesn't have the words right now.

* * *

"What else have I missed out on in your life, San, aside from, you know…your feelings…for me…"

"Dani and I got married around the time when you and Puck did. That's why I couldn't make it to your wedding. We were so busy preparing ours, and I had to study for my bar exams, and everything was just happening so fucking fast, Q." Santana looks distressed and Quinn, on instinct, takes one of her hands; it's secretly pleasing when the Latina doesn't pull away.

"If I can ask…what happened with you and Dani?" Quinn feels like she already knows the answer, but she wants to know if it's true. Either way, she already sorry for thinking about it.

"Dani…she didn't want me to get pregnant first, since I was just starting out with law… we didn't think she would have a hard time, and she didn't, really. Then she gave me Felicia, she gave me this beautiful little girl and picked out a great name, and then she came home and we were happy…and then she died, a few days later, complications that were nobody's fault, really." Quinn gasps a little, she can't help it. "She just fucking _died, _Q, and I didn't know what I was going to do without her. And then, when you didn't say a fucking word to me, I was destroyed."

"Don't get me wrong, Q, I loved my wife, and losing her was painful to me, but I have always loved you as well, and you not being there for me just really crushed me. That's part of the reason why, much as I kinda had my own certain love for Puck, I never sent those emails, it's why I never called. I wanted you to save me from the sadness that losing Dani brought me, and when you didn't, and the time came, I refused to be there for you." Quinn can feel the tears building and they're crying again; this conversation should have happened years ago, she thinks.

They sit on the couch together for a bit, tears streaming down their faces as they talk and just…bond. The way that they used to. Quinn admits her feelings, how unchanged they are, and Santana does the same. It's fucked up, she thinks, the way that after all these years, the only time that she and Santana could possibly have a future together is when they've already began to achieve the futures they saw as bright-eyed, bitchy cheerleaders. Shelby and Claire come home to find them holding hands over the table, talking very seriously now. They aren't going to rush into things, they decide. Claire and Felicia get along well, but perhaps they aren't quite ready for anything like an new parent and sister just yet.

* * *

It's another three years before Quinn proposes to Santana, and when she does, she does it grandly; the New Directions group has rented out the McKinley auditorium for their alumni reunion, segregating themselves in the beautiful, familiar space where they'd done so often for three years. Quinn gets down on one knee in front of all of her best friends and their children, in front of the framed and hung pictures of Finn and Puck, and she proposes to Santana Lopez. They're thirty-eight, which isn't an uncommon time to wed in this day and age, and when Santana says yes, Quinn knows for sure that her life has finally clicked into place. They spend that night talking about it; Santana teases that if Quinn had only been a little braver, they could have had this life already, years and years ago.

But then, Quinn counters, they would have had less time to grow apart, to grow up, and worse, there would be no Felicia and no Claire. Looking at the family that Quinn and Santana have come up with separately, and soon together, Quinn knows that as painful as everything leading up to this point may have seemed, it was for the better. She may not have had Santana with her at the beginning of their futures, but now she's here and they have many, many more years to come. Quinn wouldn't allow anything else to happen. For the third time in her life, as a wedding, her own, draws nearer, Quinn Fabray realizes something that could only be described as pivotal to the direction in which she is taking her life; every single step from here on out, she'll have Santana by her side.

* * *

**I think my feelings of emotional drain may have something to do with the fact that I stayed up until 2 to write this and then continued it when I woke up at 7... I need better time management skills TnT**

**Anyway, check out my profile for fun things like a poll, future projects, my twitter, and more!**

**Liked it? Loved it? Disliked it? Want me to toss my laptop and never write again? (Please don't be the last one!) Lazers, Quinntana fans, and everybody who isn't as easily categorized, sound-off! Or don't, I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you. That's not cool.**

**Anyway, buh-bye, and see you tomorrow!**

**~ Kay ~**


	5. A Proposal in Echo Village

**I've been playing a lot of Harvest Moon: A New Beginning, lately, so when I saw the prompt for today was AU I just had to do this. Hope you guys have as much fun as I did! (Oh, and as a reference point, Santana's schedule is pretty similar to mine when I play; write what you know, right?)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Quinntana or Tina or anybody you recognize, nor do I own Harvest Moon. I also don't know why I keep on saying this in every chapter, y'all know I'm just a nobody writing fanfiction for fun D':**

* * *

Echo Village isn't exactly as prosperous as Will is always telling her in was in his day, but each time they speak and she sees how proud he has become of her Santana knows that she's on the right track. There are certainly many, many more people living in the town now, as she's completed three of Will's town restoration plans already. Santana turns her head, staring at the clock on her bedside table. It's 5:59; she doesn't see the sense in 'sleeping' for an extra minute, and so with a heaving sigh she hits the snooze on her alarm and rises, shaking her hair from her shoulders. It's dark in her farmhouse, but Santana doesn't care enough to get the lights. Instead, she throws open the window, glad to see the top of the sun beginning to peek over the rocky alcove surrounding her property.

"What to wear?" she wonders aloud, to nobody in particular. Casting a glance at the far corner of the room as she thinks, she's surprised to find that Nephrite isn't at his food dispenser. It takes her a moment to realize she'd put the brown longhaired cat back in the pet house; Tina had finally managed to part with another longhaired cat, a white one this time, and Santana had fallen in love with him immediately and bought him on the spot. She now has a total of four pets living on her farm, the maximum that Will says he can allow, and she has already begun to put them to work.

It would be unfair to the new addition, Kunzite, and to the puppies Jadeite and Zoisite (golden Labrador twins Tina had sold her on a discount, a few months after the rancher had purchased a fine horse from Tina's Animals) if she made them work and kept Nephrite in the house all the time. She does miss having a companion in the house though; what she doesn't much miss is the cat hair, it's all over everything, and it will be a while before she can clean up properly. Santana glances at herself in the mirror she'd asked Shelby to hang up in her new closet. Her overalls look a little rumpled, but workable nonetheless. She checks the time, 6:15, and heads out of the door to begin her work.

She kind of hates the fact that she has so many damned animals to take care of, and so many crops to water (or at least, she would hate it if it wasn't what was keeping her alive, and if she didn't love working on a farm). Deciding to start with the animals, Santana dashes into the chicken coop, pleased to see that she'd left enough food for all of them to eat. She spends a little bit of time with each one, surprised to see that Usagi is now laying two eggs. Little Ami, the silkie chick that she'd hatched from an egg her friend had sent her, chirps happily as Santana picks her up and strokes her delicate black feathers carefully.

Glancing at her watch the rancher gasps a little, nearly dropping the chick in her hands; it's almost 7. If she gets stuck on the farm when the clock strikes, she's going to have to spend at least fifteen minutes watching her pets corral her livestock out into the fields. Santana makes a dash out of the door, reminding herself to pick up the rest of the eggs as soon as she can come back outside, and though she nearly trips on the fence as she vaults over it, she makes it back into her farmhouse with a minute to spare.

With a gulp of breath, Santana staggers to the kitchen, still reeling from the very sudden burst of energy. Of course, she thinks, you forgot to eat breakfast. With shaky hands she makes a few batches of egg soup (for later) and a plate of pancakes, the former of which she practically crams into her mouth as she puts the sealed containers of soup in her rucksack. She feels much better, and in a few minutes is back out on her farm.

She collects the remaining three eggs first, taking a few minutes to give pink chicken treats to her ten chickens. Then she goes into the barn in spite of the mooing and baaing of her cows and sheep. Mamoru, the black stallion that she'd bought when Tina had first come to town, looks at her with his intelligent eyes. She strokes his nose before grabbing an armful of fodder from the feed box and tossing it into the feeding tray for him. He eats quickly, ready for the day to begin, clearly, and she hops onto his back with ease, guiding him out to the farm. She allows him to canter through the stone arch but hops off of his back before he can leave the farm, and he whinnies to let her know how much he likes being outside anyway. She laughs and strokes his nose again before tending to the livestock.

The cows – Rei, Mina, and Makoto – chew at the grass before them lazily, and she thinks that maybe they might be smiling at her as she rubs their sides and milks them, relieving them of the pressure building in their udders. Inspecting their skin, she surmises that she'll need to brush them tomorrow, but they should be fine for now. Grabbing three green cow treats out of her bag, she feeds them from her palm.

Next, she checks on the sheep – Chibiusa, Hotaru, and Haruka – as they lie on the newly eaten grass fields; she'd shorn them the day prior, and they don't show any signs of infected or wounded skin, which is good. Like the cows, the three sheep are all clean enough that they won't need to be brushed until tomorrow, so she just feeds them orange sheep treats and gives them all a nice pat. The alpacas are next – Michiru, Setsuna, and Seiya – and like the sheep, she's shorn them already. She digs three regular treats out of her rucksack and feeds each alpaca one, giving a light rub to their still-fuzzy heads.

With a slight dusting-off of her hands, Santana surveys the field; she hasn't missed a single animal. It's now about 8:30, which means she's got plenty of time to deal with her crops. She grabs the gold watering can she'd made a few days ago, and yet never used due to a string of rainy days. _Thank the Harvest Goddess,_ she thinks as she allows the tool to charge before releasing a rain cloud over her crops. She continues to do this, even managing to get the crops on the extended east end of her property done and fertilized too, all before noon. As soon as she's done and has returned to the farm proper, she finds Marley standing near her the weather vane she'd set up near her mailbox. "Morning, Marley!"

"Good morning!" Santana smiles as the usually quiet woman walks over to her. She watches for a while and follows silently as the tanned brunette checks on her beehives, and Santana can't help but remember when Marley had just moved in. The girl had barely said a word but she was a fantastic tailor and eventually, through long hours talking and the odd gift of some fabric or other, Santana had won her friendship. "Santana, Quinn wants to talk to you about something."

Santana doesn't know what it is that her girlfriend wants to talk about that's so important she would send for Marley instead of just waiting until Santana came by later. Only two people would know to use Marley as a messenger, and Kitty is currently out of town with Brittany, helping the older blonde find her newest scoop. Santana really wonders what this could be about. She asks Marley, but the younger brunette doesn't know. "Did she say where I'm supposed to go?"

"Well…uh, no," Marley looks embarrassed, but Santana just smiles and shakes her head; it isn't the quiet girl's fault. Santana beckons Marley to follow as she enters her maker shed. Grabbing half of the turnips she'd just harvested, she dumps them unceremoniously into her seed making machine. Over the gentle whir of the contraption, she hears Marley say, "Uh…Santana, I hope you take this the wrong way, but you should probably take a shower and change first. Knowing your girlfriend, she may not appreciate it if you show up and smell like livestock and sweat." The new seeds pop out of the dispenser and Santana is pleased to find that they're of better quality than what she can get at Carol's store; she laughs as the other girl's last comment finally registers with her.

"You're right, of course," she says to Marley. "Though I'm sure she doesn't have the right to say anything if I smell a little bit like my animals. I'm not the one that sells livestock for a living." Marley laughs and Santana joins her shortly before continuing. "I'm going to shower anyway though, and then I'll head out. Feel free to stick around; you know everybody is always welcome on Diabla Farm." Santana checks her watch. "You'll still be here?"

"Yeah, until lunch at least. Tina told me you got a new cat, and mom said I should take today off. She kinda took my keys so I can't get into the shop, anyway, so I've got no plans." Marley pulls her long hair off of her face, doing it up in a quick braid as she speaks. "I think Kitty and Brittany are coming back before five, if you guys want to join us? We'll probably be around the Goddess Pond." Santana nods, gives Marley a quick – she doesn't want to ruin the girls clothes – hug, and makes a dash for her house once again. Dumping some of her extra tools into her toolbox on the way, the rancher quickly strips herself of her overalls, leaving them spread out messily over her storage box. It takes her about a half hour before she's really clean, and by that time, it's already half-past noon.

She sighs; everybody is so good with schedules in this little village that lunch time always, _always_ happens from 12pm to 2pm, so Santana has to wait a while before she can go find out what's happening. She decides that at the very least, she can get some more work done, and so she heads off to her closet, now unsure of what to wear. Casting a wistful glance at her overalls, she shakes her head; no dirty clothes after a shower. That would be pointless.

Thinking back on all of the outfits that had left a particularly good impression on Quinn, Santana settles on a cute vest and skirt combo that she'd worn to a party a winter or so ago. It's pleasant outside, even for spring, and even though she plans to go to the mine before the end of lunch, she isn't worried about getting dirty. Like everything else that would normally be inexplicable (for example, how her rucksack can hold up to ninety-nine multiples of up to fifty items) Santana assumes that this is thanks to the Harvest Goddess blessing the people of Echo Village. Santana is just slipping her boots on when she hears her stomach grumbling. She takes out two containers of egg soup and sets in on them, which only takes her about twenty minutes. She still has time to go to the mine before lunch is formally over.

Santana steps back outside, not bothering to lock her farmhouse door. Nobody would bother taking anything from there. She sees Mamoru grazing idly near her mailbox and gives him a soft pat on the nose before hopping up onto his back once again. As she guides him out of town she can eel his yearning to run even faster, and soon he's galloping off in the direction of the forest. She sees Tina walking around with Rachel as she passes, and they both wave at her, which she returns even as Mamoru picks up speed. Santana is pleased; Tina had said that the closer she and her horse became, the faster he would be willing to gallop for her.

She stops him suddenly as they near the Great Tree. It's only 1:15, she has time. She runs to the marked base of the tree and knocks against it, surprised at how little of a toll her new Ultra hammer takes on her body. Within a few seconds Santana is collecting a few pieces of green down and a couple of honeycombs. Cool, she thinks, she'll need to turn the down into fabric. Marley's birthday is coming up, after all, and she remembers Rachel saying that she could really use some new material. Much as she makes fun of the hobbit, the girl is a fantastic hair stylist; she deserves some sort of gift. At the second marking in the tree Santana once again knocks on the pale wood with her hammer, elated to see blue and orange down fall from the branches. 1:27.

Mamoru doesn't need to run quite so fast, as the mine is only nearby, and he neighs lowly as she jumps off of him once again. The mines aren't exactly forthcoming with goods today, though she does manage to get enough silver to upgrade her refrigerator, a hunk of platinum, two rubies, and a pink diamond which could come in handy if ever her funds take a serious dip. Shoving everything into her rucksack, she checks the time; 1:46. In a mild panic, Santana races off in the direction of the village. It's 2:19 when she makes it to Quinn's house, and that's even counting the minutes where she'd kind of just been sprawled out in pain after tripping down the path and bumping into the lamppost she'd stupidly placed at the bottom. She knows that Quinn will be headed to her farm in a little while, but decides just to get whatever this is over with. When she comes in she notices Quinn fiddling with the ring she'd given her when she'd first confessed her feelings to the blonde, but Quinn puts it back on her finger as soon as she sees that it's Santana that's come to see her.

"Hey love, are you done all your work for the day?" Quinn asks, a little too quickly if you ask Santana. The tall blonde leans over and presses a chaste kiss to Santana's cheek. "You are absolutely lovely by the way. The cute look really suits you." Santana smiles at the compliment, but isn't put-off. She's curious as to why the blonde would fidget with her ring; Quinn never takes it off, she knows.

"Yeah…what was that?" Her curiosity is annoying her, and Santana can only feel herself grow a little more bothered when Quinn just shakes her head.

"Uh…nothing. Hey, you look tired, what's wrong, are you sick?!" Santana may feel a little cross, but the obvious concern in the blonde's voice is so lovely to hear.

"I'm ok. I must not have eaten enough for lunch," she says, which is only somewhat true. She ate enough, she just worked it all off. In spite of her protestations that she's fine, Santana can't pretend that she isn't pleased when Quinn dashes into the kitchen, only coming back several minutes later with a steaming cup of honey tea. Santana takes it and drinks, and the way that Quinn's eyes soften is absolutely precious. The Latina does feel better after she's finished, and placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend's lips she thanks her for caring about her health. Quinn blushes.

"It's nothing…I uh. I must've overreacted a bit…sorry," she says, and Santana giggles because Quinn is only ever like this with her. The Latina waits, unsure if she should say anything, or if Quinn has forgotten that she'd specifically said she wanted to speak with her today.

"Hey, don't apologize; I think it's adorable. At least I know what you'd be like as a mother… our kid's going to be so lucky," Santana jokes, and the blonde turns a fascinating shade of crimson. "Hey, Quinn, babe, are you alright?"

"I uh…I actually wanted to talk to you, today, would you come with me?" Quinn is stuttering and Santana thinks it's the cutest fucking thing she's ever seen. Normally the animal-seller is a little blunt and slightly grumpy, but Santana loves her anyway.

"Of course I will, where are we going?" Quinn grasps Santana's hand in her own, not saying a word but with a mischievous little smirk playing on her face. As Quinn leads the brunette past Carol's store Santana notices Burt trimming the ball topiaries she'd planted there shortly after Shelby had come to town and opened her blueprints shop. He smiles at them as they walk past and then soon Santana and Quinn are near the river. Still the blonde keeps on walking, with great purpose, it seems. The only time she is deterred from leading Santana to their mystery destination is when one of the wild boars on the mountain trail comes up to bump playfully against the blonde's leg.

Looking askance at her girlfriend, who nods, Quinn kneels down and strokes the brown boar, murmuring kind words. Santana herself has yet to begin a friendship with any of the critters around town, and she's always amazed at how Quinn seems to just _know _them; the blonde really has a knack for caring for animals. A few minutes pass and the wind whispers softly against the grass as Quinn feeds the animal an egg from her rucksack. Once the boar has happily eaten the egg Quinn rises, takes Santana's hand again, and walks up to the mountain path until the pair of them are standing by the Goddess Pond. It all feels very familiar and then, when Quinn starts speaking, Santana knows why; in spite of herself, small tears flow from her eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" Quinn looks so concerned that Santana thinks the Harvest Goddess may have turned her tear ducts off so as to avoid a potentially over-dramatic scene. She nods and Quinn smiles reassuringly, still holding her hand. "Did you mean that thing you said? That _our kid _would be lucky to have me as a mother?"

"Of course I meant it…," it's Santana's turn to blush now, "Oh-m-my bad. I didn't…that must have sounded really—

"A little over a year ago, in summer, you came into my house at 8:03 in the morning, hair a mess, with fodder in your overall pockets and a cow treat in your mouth. I thought you looked impossibly adorable, but I was too scared to tell you that I liked you. Then you reached into your rucksack and pulled out a ring and asked me to be your girlfriend.

"I took you to this pond and asked you if you were sure that you wanted to date me, and you didn't say anything; you just took the ring out of your rucksack again and handed it to me, grinning because you knew there was no way I could say no to you. We've been together for a bit more than a year and I know that I want to start a family with you. You know how I feel about my father," Quinn pauses as Santana's other hand rubs slowly over her arm. "I don't want to keep on living like as if I have no family. I want you to be my family…"

"Quinn…"

"Santana, love, what I'm saying is, if you think that you might want to be with me, even a fraction as much as I know for sure I need you to be with me, would you uh…would you marry me?" Santana grins and doesn't say anything. She's been hoping that the chance would arise where she herself could propose to Quinn, but every time she's tried there's always been a festival, or somebody's birthday, or some stupid weather problem ruining half of her fields. She reaches into her rucksack and pulls out the blue feather she'd bought from Carol last month, delighted when Quinn's green eyes brighten. As is custom, she hands it to Quinn, who cradles the thing like as if it's more precious to her than anything else in the world, aside from Santana and her animals, of course.

"Of course I'll marry you!" Santana says as soon as Quinn has braided the feather into her belt loop. It seems to shine there, bright in the sun, and looks so appropriate hanging off of the blonde's hip that Santana is thankful the Harvest Goddess seems to have temporarily stolen her ability to cry. Quinn picks her up and swings her around, careful not to send them both spilling into the pond. As Santana looks down, into Quinn's face and she swears that there's not a more perfect sight in the world.

"I love you so much, Santana." Quinn kisses her once, softly. "Now what do you say we go tell Will, Carol and Burt? We'll need all the help we can get if I'm gonna give you the wedding you deserve."

"Okay… oh, but do you think we could take the long way and walk through the forest area?"

"Sure, why?" Quinn isn't going to like this, Santana thinks.

"I-uh…I think I may have let Mamoru by the mine entrance." The little vein on Quinn's head throbs.

"Santana! Again? _How are you always losing your horse?_"

"I didn't lose him! I just left him there by accident!"

* * *

**I'm just going to leave that there. Thank you so much to Jammy and karishmaYOLObitches for those reviews on yesterday's submission, and to everybody who reads, reviews, messages, follows, and favourites. You guys are why writing is even more fun than I usually find it.**

**Swing on down to my profile for a fun poll, lots of information about upcoming and past stories, and things like twitter, where you could (hypothetically) follow me and I could (hypothetically) follow you back and we could become friends and I could write things for you and wouldn't that be cool? Maybe?**

**Bye all, see you tomorrow!**

**OH AND BEFORE I FORGET: I named all of Santana's animals after characters from a certain anime. Tell me what it is, and I'll write what you want for the free day on Sunday ;)**

**~ Kay ~**


	6. Santana's Costume Mystery

**Sorry it's a bit later than usual, I got caught up on one idea and then changed my mind a while later. Hope this is okay, and that you enjoy it :D Thanks Jammy for always letting me know your thoughts on my submissions, and thank you as well to Quinntana2 for reviewing my Day 2 submission! :) As always, thanks to everybody who followed/favourited/and just plain READ any or all of these!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything because I'm not Ryan, Brad, or Ian; it makes me ever so sad.**

* * *

**Seven days before Halloween**; Quinn's not sure why she's spending the week leading up to Halloween at the Bushwick Loft. It may have something to do with the fact that most of her important classes have been cancelled by professors looking for an early break. More likely, she just really wanted, no, needed to spend more time with Santana. After they'd hooked up on Valentine's Day Santana had cleverly managed to get Quinn to confess that she'd liked sleeping with another girl on a level that she couldn't just dismiss as being "fun"; they'd decided to try dating.

They told Brittany first; it was Santana's idea and given their (particularly Santana's) history with the taller blonde, Quinn had agreed. Brittany had been a little sad, as expected, but she was happy for them and blessed their newly born relationship in a way that only Brittany could. After that they simply waited for the other New Directions to find out on their own, "organically" as Rachel put it, and after a few days of frantic, excited, generally encouraging phone calls, Santana and Quinn began to take their long-distance love seriously.

Of course, instead of being able to come to New York to spend time with her girlfriend, that summer Quinn had been offered the role of Ophelia in the Yale Theatre Club's production of Hamlet; it was Santana who had insisted that she stay put right there in New Haven to play the role. The only time that they saw each other in person during that whole time was in late August; Santana made it a point to come and watch every single performance. Further, she refused to allow Quinn's friend Mark to give her a discount on tickets just because she was the girlfriend of one of their stars and paid full price for each night. Quinn was usually so tired after the play that the most she and Santana ever got to in their downtime was a movie and some snuggling, but they made it work. Still, for fairly new couple they hadn't spent much time together, and that is something that really bothers the blonde.

* * *

**Six days before Halloween; **When it all comes down to it, no matter what her reasoning was, Quinn is so glad to be in New York, spending time with Santana. They deserve this time, and some part of her must have known that. Yeah, that's definitely it, Quinn thinks as she looks at Santana from across the table. The Latina is sipping from a deep red mug that reads "Property of the HBIC" and flipping through a tabloid without really reading it. Her lack of confidence is endearing; so unlike the Santana that was constantly trying to knock Quinn off the top of the pyramid. "What's definitely it, baby?" Quinn flushes; of course she'd said that aloud. From his perch on the couch Kurt practically coos as he hears the normally-snarky girl being affectionate, and he doesn't stop even when Santana turns around to shoot him a nasty glare.

"Leave Kurt alone San," Quinn says, and then, because she can't possibly say what she was really thinking without risking Kurt's life (he's made it a point to treat every sweet thing they say like he would the garbling of the world's cutest baby) she says, "I was uh…thinking that I have the perfect idea for a Halloween costume!"

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Santana mouths the word 'babe', shooting a wink Quinn's way before turning back to Kurt, who's all of a sudden very interested in the way the remote lights up when he presses a button.

"I…," she draws out her sentence, unsure of what to saying. She knows that the second she says what she's going to be, Santana will insist that she stick to it. Quinn casts her glance around the room quickly. She sees a book lying nearby, one of hers, and for a moment she's about to say that she'll be Daenarys Targaryen for Halloween but something stops her; it'll be done by somebody else, at least one other person at the party they're going to, and that would be embarrassing. Kurt seems to give up on his search for something to watch and fiddles with his phone for a bit. As the Killers come on Quinn realizes that he'd been pairing his iPhone to the television set; that's when it hits her. "I'm going to be Brandon Flowers for Halloween," she says. Santana hums lowly, smirking at her girlfriend as she sips from her mug.

"Good one, babe. I can't wait to see how you pull _that _off," she says, blatantly ignoring Kurt's drawl of "Wow Satan, who knew you can be so cute when you flirt with your girlfriend?"

"Don't worry, I'll make it work," Quinn says with a grin; she has no fucking idea how she's going to be Brandon Flowers for Halloween, but she figures it might have something to do with Mark and the Yale Dramatic Arts crew back in New Haven. They'll be able to help her whip something up, she's sure.

"What are you going to be for Halloween, Santana," Kurt says. The brunette snorts a little, something that Quinn would usually chastise her for if they were anywhere else; in Santana's own home though, she lets the impolite behaviour go. She doesn't want the brunette to feel like she needs to act any differently on Quinn's account.

"I'm _only_ gonna have the most bitchass-fucking-amazeballs costume that that NYADA bash has ever seen, hmkay?" The look on her face is so serious when she says it that Quinn can't help but laugh. It comes out of her in strange, choppy little giggles as she tries to stop herself, and she's surprised when Santana doesn't say anything about it.

As they're falling asleep that night, Quinn realizes that Santana never actually said what she would be wearing to the party; it's too late to ask anyway, Quinn thinks as she rolls over, throwing an arm casually over Santana's stomach as she drifts out of consciousness.

* * *

**Five days before Halloween; **Quinn spends the whole day Skyping with Mark and his girlfriend Laura; they've got a great plan for her Brandon Flowers costume and all she needs to buy are feathers (preferably big and brown), a dollar store medal (they come in six packs, which should be handy if she messes up), and black laces for her combat boots. "I'm heading out to do some shopping, need some things for my costume. Does anybody want anything?" Santana looks up from her phone.

"You're not going alone, are you?" Kurt looks between them with interest, and from his laptop screen Quinn can see Blaine's baby-smooth face watching quietly as well.

"Santana, we're all the same age and you know I'm just as capable as you," Quinn says, mildly irritated. The Latina casts a glance at the two boys (well, the one boy and his boyfriend's laptop-enabled face) and stands, walking over to Quinn in a deliberately sexy manner that makes the blonde want to swoon and makes Kurt looks like he wants to (jokingly) throw up.

"I know you can handle yourself Quinn, but I still don't like the idea of you alone…this isn't a great neighbourhood," here Santana ignores Kurt's indignant, "It isn't _that _bad!" and continues, "I just want to be sure that you're safe. Okay if I come with you? I need some things too." Quinn nods and smiles; she's secretly glad that Santana is coming with her. New York and New Haven are quite different, and though she stands by what she'd said to Santana, she knows that it's safer, in general, to walk around with somebody else.

"What do you need to buy?" Quinn asks as soon as Santana gets past the heavy door. The brunette just shrugs and winks, but won't say anything about her mysterious costume.

While they're at the store, Santana slips away for a bit, returning once she's already purchased whatever it is that she needs. On the way home, Quinn manages to sneak a discreet peek into one of her girlfriend's bags, but it whatever was inside it was cleverly hidden by candy and chocolates. "Ah-ah, no peeksies, baby," Santana teases when she catches Quinn's frustrated eyes. Quinn frowns slightly. "Awh, my poor baby… I'll make it up to you when we get home." The frown disappears.

* * *

**Four days before Halloween; **Quinn hasn't seen Santana at all since she woke up to find the other girl's half of the bed cold and unoccupied. She searches the whole loft, slightly distraught to find that she's the only one home; _she doesn't even live here! _With bated breath she waits as the lock jiggles, and when it's Rachel that steps in, the blonde breathes out a little too loudly. The tiny brunette lets out a loud, excited shriek of "Quinn!" and it is only then that the blonde realizes that she hasn't seen Rachel since she got here. "When did you get here?" Rachel gives her a warm hug.

"About four days ago," Quinn says, amused when Rachel's face falls in shock.

"Four days! If I'd known I would've come sooner! Have Kurt and Santana been hospitable?" Rachel laughs a little at her own joke; during the summer she'd seen how Santana was around Quinn. If it were possible, the fiery Latina could be just as sweet as Brittany when it came to taking care of Quinn and Rachel finds it every bit as adorably weird as Kurt does. Quinn laughs and nods. "Well I'm glad to hear it!"

"Glad to hear what, hobbit? Welcome home by the way, whatever. Hey baby, sorry, I had to pick something up." Santana holds a hand up, asking for them not to say anything until she's dropped off her bags. As soon as she's done, she lopes over to Quinn, snaking an arm around the blonde's lithe waist. "So what'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Quinn says sweetly, wrapping her own arm around Santana. "What'd you buy?" She's still bothered by the fact that she doesn't know what her girlfriend's costume will be; Mark and Laura have nearly finished drawing out what they're going to do for her Brandon Flowers costume. Speaking of which, "Hey, baby, I need to go back to New Haven tomorrow. Gotta pick something up for my costume."

Santana doesn't look as upset as she'd secretly hoped, just nodding as she rests her head on Quinn's shoulder and Rachel coos. "Mkay. I'll miss you," she says sweetly, acting as if the smaller brunette isn't there; Quinn figures it must be because Rachel caught her in a good mood. "I've got to work on this costume, so I'll be home whenever you get back." At the mention of a costume Rachel's smile grows wide but before the smaller girl can speak, she stops. Odd, Quinn thinks, looking between her girlfriend and one of their closest friends.

* * *

**Three days before Halloween; **nothing much really happens except for Quinn driving to New Haven and back. She leaves at around noon and gets there slightly before two, remembering to call Santana as soon as she's parked her car. She finds Mark and Laura hanging around on the grassy patch in front of their dorm, and when they see her they stand and stretch; they've probably been lying there all day, just talking, she thinks.

"I'm surprised you actually got here on time!" Mark says, laughing. "Would've thought Santana would want to come with you, and we know what that would've meant." He waggles his eyebrows at her jokingly, making her laugh along.

"She actually had to work on her own costume, but I'm supposed to call her before I leave so she knows what time to expect me." Mark nods and Laura smiles.

"It's so cute, how into Halloween you guys are," she says.

"Oh, Santana has loved Halloween ever since she was little; I used to not enjoy it as much; it's only because of her that I'm as into it now," Quinn explains. The couple nods and then Mark's eyes brighten.

"Did you bring the stuff?" Quinn holds out the Dollarama bag in response, "Excellent."

"How'd you come up with this idea, Q?" Laura asks as they make their way inside.

"I was desperate for an idea and Kurt was bored, you remember Kurt, and he was playing the Killers' new music video, so I kind of just went from there."

"Cool!" Laura says, throwing her fist up in the air so suddenly that it startles Quinn a bit. "Well don't worry Quinn; we're gonna make sure that you look _super_ hot as Brandon Flowers!"

* * *

**Two days before Halloween; **Santana is sewing furiously when Rachel and Quinn return from the Spotlight Diner; Quinn wanted to see where they worked but Santana had "So much to do" that Rachel had gladly offered to take her friend there. The blonde doesn't manage to get a good look at the shimmery cloth but she can tell that her girlfriend is pleased with her efforts. She doesn't push for Santana to tell her what it is; she's tired of guessing, and she'll see it eventually.

* * *

**The day before Halloween; **Quinn is putting together the finishing touches on her costume when Rachel walks back into the loft; one of the girls at the diner has just joined Kurt's band and she's fantastically talented, according to the small brunette. Quinn smiles because she's happy that things are going so well for her friends; they're living out their big NYC dreams and it's all terribly exciting.

"You look gorgeous Quinn!" Rachel says when she sees the makeup that Quinn's experimenting with. It's going to be bold and dramatic, _theatrical_ the blonde thinks, and she's more confident now that Rachel has sounded off her approval; the tiny diva has an amazing eye for these things.

"Thanks Rach… what are you going to go to the party as?" Come to think of it, the NYADA starlet hasn't once mentioned her own costume, but surely she has one.

"It's so funny that you should mention that Quinn, as a matter of fact, Santana—

"Whoa whoa, don't talk about me when I'm in the loft but not in the same room, right, Hobbit? No me gusta!" Santana doesn't sound all that angry; it's the hastiness of her voice that bothers Quinn a bit.

"She wasn't saying anything bad, S, you know that…and why are you so secretive all of a sudden?" Quinn asks suspiciously.

"What-me? Suspicious?" Santana looks confused for a minute. "Oh, Q you're too cute! Trying to get me to reveal my amazeballs costume a day early?" Quinn manages to stammer out that no, she didn't try anything like that but of course that was what she was angling for. "Calm your tits – which, by the way, look so hot in that shirt – I'm sure that when you see my costume it'll be totally worth the wait."

* * *

**The day of Halloween; **Everybody is busily getting dressed and they've only really got an hour until the party. For some reason Santana is the only one not aflutter with activity, even as Quinn, Rachel, Kurt, Blaine and Finn all struggle to put themselves together.

"Holy shit, Quinn, you look amazing," Finn says; she smiles at the compliment, she'd tried really hard to put an outfit together.

"If you were anymore beautiful we'd have to smuggle you out of the apartment; Bob from downstairs might finally mistake you for a goddess of the night," Kurt jokes even as Quinn shudders; Bob from downstairs is a certified weirdo.

"Baby how come you're not getting ready?" she asks as she fixes her hair. The pompadour had been Rachel's idea and it looks, if she dares say so herself, pretty damn hot.

"I'm going to get ready soon. Gotta be fashionably late and all that shit. You guys go ahead." Rachel comes out of her room just then and Quinn immediately recognizes the shimmery fabric that Santana had been sewing together a few days previous. It's a replica of the outfit that Rachel had worn at the end of her Run, Joey, Run video, but sexier and much more nicely put together. But wait… as she's pulled out into the hallway by Kurt and Rachel's eager hands, she wonders, _what the hell is Santana going to wear?_

The answer comes about a half hour later. Quinn is on the dance floor, absentmindedly swaying along to the beat with Rachel and Kurt's new band-mates, Elliot and Dani. She likes them both; they'd immediately guessed "Brandon Flowers!" when they'd seen the feathers on her blazer shoulders.

"Goddamn Miss Brandon Flowers, you are _so _fucking sexy," she hears Santana's voice rasping behind her ear. Quinn smirks at Dani (dressed like a total rock-star) and Elliot (a 'glampire' as he'd said upon their introduction), turning to the beat and getting a full look at Santana's amazeballs costume which is…well. The Latina is wearing black leggings that might by leather but are probably not, black boots, a black leather jacket, and a graphic tee that's hidden under a black scarf. She looks beautiful (and sexy) Quinn thinks as she allows herself a longer look, but for the life of her Quinn can't figure out what kind of costume this is.

"Well thank you Miss… Buffy?" Santana shakes her head and winks at Dani and Elliot, who laugh. They're obviously in on the joke.

"Nuh-uh," Santana says as she twists her girlfriend around and the beat morphs into Church by T-Pain. "Awh fuck I love this song. Dance with me, baby." Quinn mentally braces herself; she knows that dancing with Santana, especially to songs like this, will leave her all hot and bothered. And she knows that the Latina knows, and is probably using this knowledge to avoid answering what her costume (which Quinn is starting to doubt is even really a costume) happens to be.

Just as things start to get a little too intimate for everybody else's comfort, Quinn stops. She really can't figure out this costume business and it's bothering her like crazy. "Hey Q, what's wrong, do you feel okay?" Santana asks, and Quinn nods.

"Yeah… just don't want to dance." At this point Rachel, Kurt, Finn and Blaine have all met up with them on the floor and the four are watching them with interest, along with Elliot and Dani.

"Why not?" Santana look a bit upset.

"I just… it's been bothering me all week, and now it's Halloween and I can't figure out what your amazeballs costume is and maybe you just wanna dance so I won't ask questions and I feel dumb because I haven't figured it out."

"Oh baby, I'm sorry, I didn't know that you've been waiting to find out what it is. You want to know what my amazeballs costume is?" she asks, throwing her arms around Quinn's neck and laughing when the blonde give up and begins to dance again.

"Clearly," Quinn says, dipping her head dangerously close to Santana's secret spot, hidden right under her jaw. "So are you going to tell me?"

"Of course," Santana says, and when their lips are only a breath away from each other she says, "I'm Emily Fields." Quinn backs away slowly, hands holding on to Santana's hips. Now that she mentions it, Quinn can definitely see the connection, but it's just so low-effort that she honestly can't believe it; she wonders if maybe San's just bullshitting and if she'd actually just forgotten to prepare an outfit.

"Seriously?" She laughs, "Really San, that was your amazeballs plan?"

"Emily Fields is totally hot, and Pretty Little Liars is pretty much _the_ fucking Halloween show. It's genius!" Santana says, pulling the blonde closer. Quinn rolls her eyes. Then again…she casts another glance at her girlfriend, it's kind of genius.

* * *

**If you haven't seen the Killers' music video for Just Another Girl, that's why I had Quinn be Brandon Flowers for Halloween. :D And Santana being Emily Fields was just because. Because I can. Anyway...**

**One more day! I actually have no idea what I'm doing for tomorrow TnT**

**Thank you as always for reading! I'm out, gonna eat some tiramisu and watch some Sailor Moon.**

**~ Kay ~**


	7. One Night She Was There

**So this is technically a pre-Quinntana, mostly because I had a small issue with my eye and my hands were seizing up a bit (and I'm only 19...future health woes?) Not particularly impressed with my first or last entries, for this year's Quinntana weel, but I think they're not too bad. More from me after the cut, see you later. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I if owned anything, I wouldn't be here. So...I guess I must not own anything D:**

* * *

"I'm here because I left Dani."

"Cleaned your room yesterday, come in."

The time is eleven-thirty at night in New Haven, Connecticut and it's now been an hour since their little exchange at the doorway. Quinn has stayed silent so far because she isn't exactly sure what to say; how do you comfort your best friend – she uses the term loosely, because it would be too long to say your-best-friend-and-sometimes-enemy-with-whom-you've-had-sex-twice – who lives in a city that's an hour and a half or more away who's shown up at your house at ten-thirty at night, wet and snivelling in the rain, only to say that she's there because she's left her gorgeous-hot-rocker-girlfriend? It's times like this where Quinn wishes she had one of Miss Pillsbury's ridiculous pamphlets handy.

The Latina sitting on the opposite end of the couch doesn't say anything. She isn't crying anymore, but there's this almost-frighteningly concentrated look on her face, and Quinn's curiosity is biting at her conscious. Santana showed up with a duffle bag in hand, but why? It takes a while before the blonde makes any sort of movement, and when she does she ends up awkwardly patting one smooth, tanned leg. "If you don't want to talk I understand, but I'm here if you do. I'm going to make some popcorn and hot chocolate, and you can pick a movie. Sound good?" She thinks that even sad, Santana looks awfully pretty…but wait. That has nothing to do with anything.

The Latina looks long and hard at her but Quinn can tell she isn't angry; it's more like she's looking at Quinn from every possible angle, trying to figure out if she doesn't know the blonde the way she thought. It's highly possible; they may have known each other since kindergarten and Santana may have been her friend even before Lucy Caboosey became a distant terror of a memory, but there are still more facets to Quinn of which even she is unaware. As she rises from the couch, she hears Santana practically whisper a reluctant "Okay", her gaze still focused on the blonde's back, and Quinn barely knows what to make of it.

As she prepares the water for the cocoa and pops a batch of popcorn into the microwave, Quinn leans back against the counter. She can't possibly think of any problems that could have led to Santana leaving Dani; whenever they've spoken in recent times all that Quinn has ever heard is how "amazing" Dani is as a musician, a girlfriend and a lover. Granted that was over a month ago, but surely nothing could have caused such a significant shift in their relationship since then? In her mind, Quinn also rules out abuse; neither Santana nor Dani would do that. For all of her talk, Santana isn't usually violent, and Dani wouldn't harm a fly. Quinn's not even joking; she's seen the girl gently shoo a fly away from herself before.

Quinn gets back into the living room just as the previews of the movie are ending. The Land Before Time pops up on screen, and to anybody else it would seem an odd choice, but Quinn isn't anybody else; some people use The Notebook or A Walk to Remember as their I-need-to-cry-but-this-will-make-it-less-obvious movie, but Santana uses cartoons (high-quality cartoons, of course). Judging by the fact that it isn't Up that they're watching, Santana is going to try to hold in her tears for a bit before just letting everything out. "Here you go, S," she says gently as she sets the Latina's mug (because of course she has her own mug at Quinn's place) on a coaster. Santana shoots her a small smile.

"Hope you don't mind," she says, gesturing to the movie. Her finger hovers over the remote control 'play' button and Quinn knows that if she were to protest, Santana would change the movie to something else. But why would she do that? She just shakes her head because really, she doesn't mind at all, and Santana presses play.

For a while Quinn wonders if maybe she's misjudged the severity of the situation. They're just watching the movie in companionable silence and every so often Santana will make a comment. Then, right at the scene where Littlefoot asks his mother why he has to go on alone, Santana breaks down.

"Your heart…it whispers. So listen closely." Those words, spoken by a dying, fictional female brontosaurus mother, seem to strike Santana with all the force of a hammer blow, and it confuses Quinn to no end. Sure, she always tears up a bit during this scene but Santana is just a mess right now. The blonde makes a motion to turn the DVD player off, but Santana stops her.

"Don't, Quinn…please don't." It's the first time that Santana has said her name this entire time, and something about the way that it sounds makes the blonde sit back down. Never once in her whole life has Santana said her name with so much vulnerability, not even in the throes of passion on the night of Mr. Schue's not-really-a-wedding. It's almost as if her name is the real plea, and Quinn moves a little closer to the brunette, who in turn huddles into her side as if all the warmth is gone from her body and Quinn is a human heater.

"It's not your fault. It's not your mother's fault. Now you listen to old Rooter… It is _nobody's_ fault," Rooter's old voice pours through the speakers, and Santana clutches even more tightly to Quinn's robe. The blonde, before she even realizes what she's doing, strokes Santana's dark hair, murmuring small words of comfort. This scene, she thinks, is about death – she doubts that Dani is dead or Santana would have said something much different when she'd first appeared on Quinn's doorstep – but it could also be about the ending of things in general. She knows that as a friend, she must let Santana grieve for a relationship that is obviously over and if this is how she wants to do it than all that Quinn can do is be there with her arms open.

The rest of the movie proceeds and Quinn just holds Santana as the odd sniffle escapes her. When it's finished and they've turned it off, Quinn takes the mugs and the popcorn bowl and excuses herself to wash them. Santana's giving her that searching stare again and it's a little weird, except for the fact that nothing seems to be weird between them anymore. She's finished just in time to see Santana's head dropping a little as she searches for something else to wash, and that's when Quinn realizes that the other young woman must be exhausted.

The train to get from New York to New Haven doesn't leave until eight, which means that depending on when Santana officially grabbed her things and declared herself as having left Dani, Santana has been loitering about the station for hours. Then there was the travel to consider, and knowing Santana she would've taken the bus to get to Quinn's, meaning that she'd probably been standing due to the influx of students returning to their dorms or headed out to pubs, whichever. And she'd had that duffel too!

"San, I think you should head up now," she says softly. She's almost hesitant to touch her friend; normally so resilient, Santana looks as if at any moment she may just shatter all over Quinn's carpet.

"Quinn I…I want to talk." She doesn't say "now", but Quinn understands.

"I just think maybe we should head up first? You look really tired, and this way I won't have to worry about carrying you up to your room." Your room, she said. Quinn frowns only slightly; since when has the guest room been Santana's room? "Cleaned your room yesterday, come in," she'd said earlier in the night. Odd.

For her part, Santana doesn't argue, even rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Quinn's little joke. They head upstairs together, as soon as Quinn makes sure that everything is in order and the door is locked. Quinn is glad that she'd gotten her contractor to add in an en suite bathroom to the guest room; she figures Santana will appreciate the privacy. It's about two or so in the morning when she finally heads over to Santana's room (the guest room, she corrects herself). Quinn finds her kind of just sitting on the bed, looking a bit dazed. "It's your fault."

"Excuse me?" She's not quite sure that she'd heard correctly. The change on Santana's face is instant, and if they hadn't been friends for so long it would have scared the shit out of Quinn. It's the look that Santana has only ever had after saying something that she had wanted to say, but in the wrong way. Usually it ends up as a huge misunderstanding, but that would mean that Santana is blaming her because she doesn't want to? It doesn't make much sense and either way Quinn can feel her own anger already priming itself for a screaming match, but the Latina beats her to it.

"You heard me. It's your fault. This whole fucking mess that I call my life is, mostly, your fucking fault, Fabray," Santana practically spits the words out. Some goddamn gratitude, Quinn thinks.

"Look, I don't know what the _hell_ is wrong with you, but I'm willing to let it go because number one, you're my best friend and number two, you're obviously going through some complicated shit that I can't quite grasp right now. But don't you fucking _dare _blame me for your problems Santana. You and I haven't spoken in at least what, a month, and all of a sudden you show up here and accept my hospitality, right before blaming me for something I don't even know shit about?"

"Of course you have no idea what you've done, Quinn, because you haven't fucking _done_ anything, and that's why I blame you for everything!" Santana's voice is even more raspy than usual, and Quinn has a brief thought that it is the sexiest thing she's ever heard; at least she thinks that until the words actually register in her head.

"You're impossible," she shoots back, because it's true. "I don't know why I ever wasted my time being nice to you Santana." That stops Santana's next words. Quinn can see what looks like the beginning of tears forming at the corners of the brunette's eyes and she wonders if maybe she's gone too far. Surely a careless comment like that couldn't have affected Santana that much? "I didn't mean that San…If you would at least _explain_ why this bullshit is my fault, maybe I can help you." She doesn't know why she throws that in there, but she has a strange feeling, like maybe she really could help the Latina if she only knew more on the situation at hand.

Santana looks a little spent as she sits down slowly. "Dani knows that we slept together on that Valentine's Day a while back."

"So fucking what? That was three years ago, and at least a month before you even met her!"

"That's not the point, Quinn." Santana is being so stupidly difficult that if Quinn didn't want care much about her friend or her future, she would throttle the girl right then and there. She doesn't say anything. Instead she crosses her arms tightly over her chest and waits. "The point is, when she asked me if I slept with you because I was drunk or because I had feelings for you, I told her the truth."

Wait. Why would that matter? Quinn knows Dani; the girl has spoken about her wild party days so surely a drunken one night—unless…ohshitohshitohshitohshit. "You're kidding."

"I left Dani, but only because she let me… I left Dani because she told me she didn't think I was being fair to her, to myself, and to you by staying with her when clearly there's somebody that I love more."

Quinn panics. Yes, she'd accepted a while back that she's bisexual, even before sleeping with Santana, but for that matter she isn't sure if she's even interested in Santana on that level. Scratch that, she knows she's always amused the idea. She's always entertained the idea of sleeping with Santana again, but recently she'd started thinking about what could have possibly happened if they'd talked about maybe dating? Would Santana have dumped her and gone and dated Dani anyway? Or would the Latina be living here with her, or would she be living in New York with Santana, together as a couple? Whatever, though, she thinks. This is too much to deal with; Quinn immediately begins to compile a mental list of all the reasons why this isn't actually happening and Santana doesn't actually love her.

"You're joking San, you've got to be. You saw us just now; one minute we're on my couch and you're holding onto me like I'm the only thing helping you breathe, and I'm comforting you while a Don Bluth cartoon plays out across my screen. The next minute we're yelling at each other and you're blaming me for how fucked up your life is and I'm essentially insulting our whole friendship."

"Come on Q, you're smart," Santana says, "don't you think that maybe I'm blaming you for all of this because if I didn't fall for you, neither of us would have to deal with this shit? Do you think that I like this? You weren't there when I said it out loud for the first time but god _fucking_ damn Quinn I have _adored_ you ever since day one." Santana holds up a hand to stop Quinn from speaking. "Yes, I slept with Britt. I dated her and I loved her. But it was never the same as the way that I love you."

"You can't say these things to me, Santana!" Quinn is on the verge of tears herself, though she isn't sure why. "It's two in the morning and everybody else who's sane is asleep and you're telling me these things and not saying anything about what you're going to do about it. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I'm not going to do anything about it," Santana says simply.

"What?" Quinn asks. She's surprised that Santana would give up so easily; it does help to convince her that the other young woman isn't as serious as she thought though.

"I don't know what I was thinking, coming here." Santana's voice sounds so mournfully sad all of a sudden. "You're clearly repulsed by the idea…I'm sorry for even mentioning it. I'll be out of here in the morning, soon as I wake up."

"Santana." Quinn doesn't know why she doesn't want this conversation to be over. She expected more from Santana; the girl is renowned for her fierce personality. Quinn should be happy though; even if Santana really does love her, the girl is giving it up so that they can just go back to normal. "Come on Tana, talk to me."

"Goodnight, Quinn," Santana says lowly, and she slips under the covers. "Please close the door and turn of the light when you leave."

The blonde doesn't get much sleep. She shouldn't think so much about the things that she and Santana said to each other. In particular, she shouldn't really put so much stock into it; it shouldn't bother her, she thinks…unless she likes Santana too, as more than friends?

But she couldn't. Quinn remembers the night they'd spent together, albeit drunkenly, with fondness, yes, but that doesn't mean that she's in love or anything. It's seven in the morning and Quinn hasn't slept at all. She just has to know. Why is this stupid non-issue bothering her so much? At first she feels creepy and a little past desperate, standing outside of the door to Santana's room (the _guest_ room, she corrects herself) but the feeling goes away. She's Quinn Fabray after all, and she doesn't need to feel anything but confidence in her own home.

Santana looks so peaceful in her sleep; so much sweeter than her regular day-to-day facial expressions. Quinn can feel a smile creeping onto he own face slowly, and she's slaps a hand over it in surprise. Maybe, she thinks, maybe she's just flattered that somebody as attractive as Santana has such strong feelings for her. That's probably it. "Q…stop standing there…creepy." Quinn blushes in the dark, the only indication being the heat on her face. "Come…here." This is it. This is the turning point. She could turn around and leave and simply tell Santana that she had imagined her there. Instead, Quinn slips under the covers, surprised when Santana turns to face her. The Latina certainly looks awake now.

"This doesn't change anything." She knows it's a lie. Of course it changes things, even if she isn't quite sure how. She knows it and Santana knows it, and the Latina's smile is infectious.

"You came over here to check up on me…" Santana sighs but it sounds happy enough. "You're always looking out for me, Quinn. Can you blame me for falling in love with you?" Quinn shakes her head. She isn't sure how they've even gotten to this point, talking about love and each other in the same bed. She was just supposed to be comforting her best friend over a lost relationship! Everything feels so very disorientingly disjointed but Quinn can't quite say that she dislikes it.

"I don't know what you want from me, Santana…"

"Well right now, I kind of just want to sleep. We can talk later, promise, no screaming. It'll be all mature and shit."

"Mhm. Fine, go back to sleep," Quinn says. She can't fight the smile that inches back onto her face as Santana snuggles into her arms. It isn't like she's ready to be the other girl's girlfriend or anything, Quinn thinks as she pushes back a few stray hairs from the Latina's face, but they know each other well and that's a start; they fight a ton, sure, but they support each other when it really counts. It might not be so bad, she thinks, to let this go in whatever direction it may. She'll have to thank Dani tomorrow, Quinn thinks as she begins to fall asleep. Minutes later her eyes snap open. Or would that seem really rude?

"Quinn go to sleep, fuck, your thoughts are so loud I can't get my dreams on." Quinn rolls her eyes and she knows that Santana can feel it. What kind of mess are they getting themselves into?

* * *

**And that's been Quinntana Week 2014! Thank you so much to everybody who read/reviewed/followed/favourited this story (and those of you who followed/favourited me, that was surprising)! I'm glad to see that people enjoyed this; it was a hectic, tiring week but I'm so happy that I participated.**

**If you want to reach me on twitter, my personal handle can be found on my profile (as well as a fun poll and some other stuff).**

**A special thank you to Jammy and Quinntana2, I dropped my phone on my face by accident because getting reviews from you guys surprised me.**

**Love all of you so much more than you know, whether you're a Lazer (best fan name ever, right? No, I know it isn't) or whether you're a Quinntana fan who decided to give my submissions a go. Thank you so much.**

**That's all for now, bye!  
~ Kay ~**


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